Ollie had to admit, the last few days had sucked. He wasn't one for administrative duties; helping Coil orchestrate the methodical takeover of what was ABB territory may have been lucrative, but, God, was it tedious. He'd had to run around the whole of Brockton Bay, handing out invitations like a goddamned errand boy, and then he sat through that God awful meeting. Ollie could've sworn that hanging around these costumed freaks was taking years off his life.

It'd been a lot less eventful since the meeting at Somer's Rock, at the least. The Loft had been mostly quiet, with most of the other Undersiders being in and out pretty frequently; chiefly, Ollie hadn't seen Taylor at all in a few days, but it wasn't any of his business. His business, at the moment, was being the scary gunman—Coil would shoot Ollie a call, and he'd show up where he was needed and wave his rifle around.

Ollie let his head fall back on the couch—the laptop in his lap's fan hummed quietly; the white noise and comfortable warmth on his thighs created the perfect atmosphere for relaxation. It wasn't a luxury he allowed himself often; more often than not, he couldn't without running the risk of losing his life in the process.

"Hey, Ollie." Wilbourn greeted him as she leaned over the back of the couch, her arms folded over her chest. Their faces were only inches apart, and Ollie got the chance to really appreciate her features. Wilbourn had soft, childish features that made her analytical glare and impish grin look benign, but he understood that she didn't trust him. He didn't trust her either.

"Hey." Ollie said and closed his laptop—habitually; there wasn't anything on his laptop that Wilbourn didn't know already, surely.

"Do you and Taylor have a thing?" The innocent question threw Ollie for a loop. His exaggerated double take brought a smirk to Wilbourn's expression, but Ollie was too focused on putting whatever foolishness she was on about to rest to be frustrated with her smugness.

"Wh-Whoa. What? No; of course not. There's nothing there."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." Ollie set his laptop on the accent table next to the couch and shifted to face Wilbourn properly while she walked around to sit next to him. "What makes you think there's something between me and Taylor?"

"Well, you've been asking after her a lot recently."

"It's my job." Ollie answered a bit too quickly for his liking. He took a moment to try and slow down and compose himself before continuing. "You know why I'm here. I monitor all of you; not knowing where Taylor is puts a hole in my report."

"Is that it?"

"Yes. What's with you—always asking questions?"

"I'm just asking. She seems interested in you."

Ollie froze at that. It'd be about the first time anyone was interested in him if what Wilbourn said was true. An alien feeling was brewing in his chest, and he gave a huff as he shifted to face the TV. It was off, but he wasn't looking for a distraction. He glared into his reflection's eyes as he tried to put a name to the feeling.

The truth was, he'd gotten a good look at Taylor back when—after the robbery at Brockton Bank. He'd used a piece of broken glass to watch her change into his clothes, and, while he'd justified it in the moment as watching out for a knife in the back, he couldn't say he didn't like what he saw. Taylor was lean—strong but just soft enough in all the right places.

"Is she?" The question slipped from Ollie, and he bit his tongue in an effort to bite back any more stupid questions. Wilbourn perked up at Ollie's slip—it reminded him of a dog that had caught sight of a treat.

"So you are interested in her."

"You're putting words in my mouth, Wilbourn."

"I'm just trying to get a better read on you. You're worse than a mystery; you're disgustingly simple."

Ollie bristled under the weight of Wilbourn's observation. He wasn't certain whether she was insulting his intelligence or his motives—or both—but, regardless, he was getting increasingly annoyed.

"And you're full of yourself, a know-it-all, and your childish attitude towards being a career criminal nearly got me killed; so you'll forgive me if I don't take your jabs lying down."

"Ugh," Wilbourn gave an exaggerated sigh as Ollie tucked his laptop under his arm and rose from the couch, "are you still hung up on the bank job?"

"Yes." He answered without hesitation. Something about Glory Girl had scared the shit out of him; his head was splitting in two back when Alexandria Junior had her hand around his throat, and his body had just refused to act on its own—not like there was anything he could've done anyway. For the first time in a long while, Ollie had felt helpless, and he wasn't going to let that grudge go anytime soon.

Wilbourn shot up from the couch to block Ollie's exit.

"Hey, look, I think we got off on the wrong foot."

"You think?"

"I've wronged you; I'm sorry." Ollie could tell Wilbourn didn't mean a word she said by the way she struggled to wrap her lying tongue around the words—he got the sneaking suspicion that Wilbourn wasn't one for apologies. "But we can help each other."

Ollie kept silent for a moment, mulling over Wilbourn's words. He didn't doubt that she could be helpful, but he doubted that she'd actually follow through on any promises she made; in addition, he was skeptical of anything Wilbourn offered considering she hadn't exactly proven reliable thus far. However…

"I'm listening." Ollie finally said.

Wilbourn scanned the open lobby of the Loft, and Ollie followed her eyes. It was empty, mostly; the only Undersider in the building that wasn't him or Wilbourn was Alec, but Ollie figured that guy wasn't the type to eavesdrop when he could be doing anything else. Wilbourn trained her bottle green eyes back on Ollie and dropped her voice to a whisper.

"Taylor is Protectorate."

Ollie's expression darkened. He was far less concerned with Taylor feeding the Protectorate information on Coil and the Undersiders than he was about her spilling anything he'd told her about himself. A lot of the leverage Ollie had in his line of work was anonymity; his ability to move in and out without ever being noticed hinged on no one knowing to look out for him in the first place, and that could very well be at risk now.

"That's a serious allegation." Ollie whispered. He wasn't willing to believe anything Wilbourn said at face value, so, until she provided some evidence, this was going to remain a baseless allegation.

"It's not an allegation. Just… If you're going to believe anything that comes out of my mouth, believe this. I'm telling you, Taylor is in cahoots with the Protectorate."

"And what does this mean for us?"

"You like her, right?" Ollie opened his mouth to shut down that thought, but Lisa cut him off. "And she likes you."

Truth be told, Ollie didn't really know what he felt for Taylor. Out of all the Undersiders, he liked her the most—second place belonged to Laborn—but he didn't know if he could call what he felt for Taylor anything close to love. Of course, he didn't have any experience with relationships like that, and he wasn't what you'd call in touch with his emotions. What he knew for certain was that the cocktail of emotions he couldn't put names to felt eerily like betrayal.

And, as much as he hated to admit it, Wilbourn's being a woman and her power made her the most trustworthy person when it came to this sort of thing. If anyone could tell him what he was feeling and what to do from here, it'd be her.

"Go on." He conceded, keeping his answer vague.

"If Coil finds out—" Wilbourn started.

"He doesn't know?"

"No, stop interrupting. If Coil finds out, he'd have you kill her. It's the smart move; you're a trained assassin, and you're close to Taylor already; it's perfect. But you don't want to kill Taylor."

"No."

"Exactly. Look, I know Coil is paying you, but I have a plan that could make you more than anything he could pay."

Ollie quirked an eyebrow, thoroughly intrigued by Wilbourn's proposition.

"Really?"

"Yes." Wilbourn bounced on her heels like a schoolgirl preparing to spill the hottest gossip to date. "Taylor's insecure—she's looking for friends anywhere she can get them—and I've been working on getting close to her, but she's already shown that she's got an interest in you. You've got an in that I don't. If you can lead her on—I'll help—we can convince her to work with us."

Ollie grimaced. The plan was ruthlessly manipulative, but, well… Ollie didn't really have a leg to stand on trying to judge Wilbourn for manipulating Taylor when Ollie would've killed the lot of them for a one-time payment of $15k not a month ago. If this plan could have a big payout—bigger than Coil could offer—like she said, and get him closer to Taylor…

"To what end?" He asked.

"We're going to undermine Coil and sweep his operation out from under him."

Ollie scratched his chin, deep in thought. The silence wasn't tense but it was thick with anticipation with Wilbourn staring him down like she was.

"Ambitious. Having someone in the Protectorate on our side would help—in a lot of ways."

Wilbourn offered Ollie her hand. Her expression was almost manic, like she lived for these kinds of backroom deals and conspiracies. Ollie wasn't about to run headlong into anything that risky without some insurance though.

"How do I know you won't stab me in the back?" He asked.

"How do you know Coil won't?" Wilbourn rebuked.

"You've lied to me more times than he has."

"As far as you know. I've known Coil longer than you have, so believe me when I say he's a snake. I bet he hasn't even told you the Travelers' little secret has he?"

"No… No, he hasn't."

"I can. When I lie, it's mostly harmless, and you're smart enough to know when I'm fibbing. You can't say the same about Coil. So, what'll it be? The devil you know, or the devil you don't?"

Ollie considered the situation for a second. It was just about all the time he needed to decide that working for Coil wasn't the best gig he'd taken in a long time. Good pay really only ever meant one thing: that his employer was hiding something. His migraines, Wilbourn's words, and the bullshit assignments were all telling him that something was up. Ollie wanted to be the one pulling the trigger when it all came to a head, not the body in a ditch.

He took Wilbourn's hand and shook it.

"You've got a deal, Lisa. I've got your back—if it comes to it." Ollie squeezed her hand. Lisa held his gaze, hard and analytical, like he was trying to figure every possible chance she'd have to sell him out. "Just remember I'm in the perfect place to put a bullet in it."