"So," said James slowly, "Mr Warwickson's actually Loki, and you're about to run a secret guild of spies?"

"That's about it," she nodded. They were sat on the rickety metal fire escape attached to the side of the building, watching construction workers enter and leave (paid with real, or at least permanent, money). They told her it would be done within the upcoming week, and she was jittery with excitement.

"Wow."

"I know."

"But he was always very nice to me, miss. Just as nice as you are."

"Be glad you don't know the stuff I did before the hotel," she said, patting him on the shoulder.

"Oh. Are you sure you don't want me to pay rent, miss? I don't mind."

She stared at him. "James, you're surrounded by criminals and you're asking me about rent."

"So long as you don't involve me in any of that malarkey, miss, I think it'll be alright."

"You're a blessing to this earth, James."

"Thank you, miss."

She picked a lump of rust off the railings, and felt Algernon twist round in her pocket. "There's something else I need to tell you, James."

"What is it, miss?"

"I… I have a daughter. She got taken away from me when she was a baby, but I'm going to get her back. Loki doesn't know and I doubt he'd be very happy about it, but it's none of his business and I am going to find her again. So if you see anything to do with a little girl on the other side of the globe lying around, that's why. I'm getting Lucy back."

"Good for you, miss."

"I get the impression you'd agree with anything I say, James."

"Probably, miss."

"I can't help but think that's a bad thing."

"Most likely, miss," James said cheerfully. "There's some people looking at us, miss."

She jumped up and saw that a dozen girls from the refuge were looking up at them from the pavement below. She ran down, taking the rickety stairs two at a time, and skidded to a halt in front of them with a delighted smile.

"You came!" she exclaimed, "I honestly wasn't expecting anyone."

"The builders walking in and out of here kinda suggest otherwise," said the Mohawk girl, also known as Bobby. "So what happens now?"

"Our other guest should be here any- oh, Ben, there you are. Ben, these are The Rats. Rats, this is Ben. He's killed several people, but who hasn't, right?"

Half the girls already knew the mob boss, and the rest smiled a little nervously.

"Evening, ladies," said Ben, "and… gentleman…"

"Hello, sir."

"That's James," said Gwen, "he also lives here."

"What does he do?" Ben asked.

"He works in a fancy hotel uptown. He's also completely legit, so don't get him involved, any of you."

"He's adorable," Ben announced, before refocusing. "I got three guys who've disappeared, Pinky, and I need 'em finding." He handed her a crumpled piece of paper and she smoothed it out to see three names written on it in smudged ink. One of them was just a nickname.

"We can get you their locations in two weeks," Gwen said confidently.

"I need 'em by Friday."

"Fair enough," she shrugged, "payment on delivery, I guess."

"How we've always done it. Get 'em to me early and I'll spread the word about you lot, and throw in a couple of muggins for free, make sure the place is safe."

"Cheers, Ben."

"No problem. And if you don't get me their addresses by Sunday, I'm cutting out your tongue," he added, in the air of someone reading out their grocery list.

"It's how we've always done it," she smiled, and Ben grinned a gold-toothed grin back. "See you later."

"Bye, Pinky." He sauntered off, leaving Gwen with a bunch of very apprehensive-looking young women who clearly hadn't been expecting the tongue threat. "Have a little faith in me. You didn't think I could get this place either, did you, and here we are." They didn't look very reassured, so she decided to just get on with it. There was a deadline, after all. "Right, then. We'd best get cracking."

She taught the Rats half of what she knew about tagging, which was a hell of a lot more than what they knew already, and promised them a new home by the time the new jobs were done. With four girls to a mark they would have them found in no time, Gwen thought confidently, and while a thirteenth share of what they were paid she kept for herself and James the rest would go towards food and upkeep of the burrow. At the end, with them all stuffed into one of the gutted rooms, she climbed onto a table and prepared herself to speech.

"I know," she said, "I know this seems crazy, that I seem crazy. And I probably am, a little bit- but you're all here too, and that counts for something. Maybe you like the romance of it all, the espionage. Maybe you're here for the money, to pay for your next kick. Maybe you're actually here for me, in which case… thanks, that means a lot more than you know. And I promise, whatever you want, within reason, I'll do my best to get it for you. But there's another reason you're all here, too- because you all need something. It's not impressive, it's not complicated, and it's something everyone should get, regardless of who you are.

"You need a home. Because when you don't have one, when you're living on the streets, you're nobody. You might have been a model, or a banker, or a hooker whatever- but the moment you start begging, start tapping, you're just another invisible. Aimless. A nuisance, yeah, but no real threat. Because while you're better at tagging than MI6 and the CIA combined, you got no reason to do it. You got nothing to fight for except yourself, and what are you worth? Nothing worth protecting.

"But now, you got beds. You got rooms, showers, a place to keep your clothes dry and a steady income. And you know what that gives you? Something to protect, something to fight for, a rock bottom that's just that little bit higher than it was before. Higher for you to reach everyone else. You got a reason to do something beyond just surviving, now. You got a reason to live, to flourish, to take what you deserve from the people that have too much and spend it all on the dark people, the dirty people like us. Now you have motivation, selfishness, territory. And that makes you dangerous, and powerful, and capable of changing the world."

There was a weighty pause as eyes, eyes that knew the true meaning of hunger, of fear and desperation, stared back at her. And then finally, someone- Bobby- spoke.

"Please don't tell me this whole soliloquy shebang is gonna be a regular thing, or I won't be held responsible for my actions."

The spell broke, the crowd laughed, and Gwen relaxed. "Go choose your rooms," she said, "if you need a hand, me and James are around. And don't forget, you're safe here. Across this threshold, the only thing that can hurt you is me. So don't piss me off," she added, only half-joking.

At the end of the day, she pulled the most ordinary, nervous-looking girl aside and asked if she wanted something a little more legal. The kid agreed, obviously, so Gwen walked up to Stark Tower to hand in her resignation. She got along well enough with the management that they even promised to consider the replacement she suggested, who was of course the meekest Rat.

And when all of the business stuff was done and she was alone in her bedroom, Gwen could finally think about Lucy again. Admittedly the social services weren't going to be happy about her career choice, but who gave a damn about them? They weren't going to stop her seeing her daughter, nobody was. And now she had her own business of sorts, she was better placed than ever to raise her daughter.

Lucy, who was everything Gwen wasn't; innocent, whole and safe. Who had never had to want for anything, except her real mother. Gwen would give up all that she had just built for herself in order to see her daughter again, to experience her embrace for the first time since she had had to give her up, and it was just a tiny pink hand clutched around her own little finger.

She grabbed a few sheets of paper from a bookshelf, and began to make plans for how to get to England.

A/N first of a double update to make up for the fact there's no Loki in this chapter. Also in this chapter, we see Gwen's just as fond of grand speeches as her godly employer.