A/N: Sorry for the late chapter, Christmas ate my time. It does that sometimes.

Fandango: Interlude 2

Danny didn't know what to say.

"Taylor... what…"

His daughter just kept going, each word slashing deeper, tearing a hole in his world. "And I'm doing my best regardless, I'm keeping up for the most part in my classes. Sometimes they steal assignments and stuff, but I'm still managing." This was the truth; his little girl was suffering, and he'd barely noticed. His fists clenched.

"Only this week they ruined my textbooks, so I needed extra money." She hadn't come to him, and no wonder. "So I found a job. I joined a g-game studio, and it pays really well, and it's got flexible hours, so school isn't a mmmphh-" He wrapped her in a hug. It was the only response he had.

"My little owl."

It was a wish more than anything. A call back to the time when his daughter smiled and laughed, when the love of his life was alive, when the world had made sense. Asking her not to grow up, even though he knew she had. Annette's pet name, now turned into a plea for forgiveness. He pulled Taylor closer. She was crying into his shoulder, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, like she did when she was little. He could even hear the faint whispers of the music from her now ever-present earbuds. He spoke, letting his thoughts out.

"I'm so proud of you. I've been an idiot, and I'm so proud of you for staying strong." He pulled away, locking eyes with Taylor as she rubbed away tears. "But next time, try to keep me in the loop." He gave her a small smile, then pulled her in so she couldn't see him tearing up too.

His daughter was growing up, and he'd been left behind. He'd left her behind a long time ago, actually. No more. He was a father, damn it, and if he couldn't help his daughter when it mattered, he didn't deserve to call himself a man.

"Tomorrow, I'll make some calls. See if we can do anything about these bastards who think they can push you around. I'll tear the school down with a mob of Dockworkers if I have to." They would do it, if he told them; pull their kids out of school, form a mob, the works. He wouldn't even have to ask; they were almost family, and they'd done more for less. But first, he'd make those calls.

No, he thought. First, he'd spend time with the girl in his arms. Later, he'd fight. "But tonight? Let's celebrate your first job. Go get some ice cream, visit the mall. Maybe go see a movie."

She nodded. He smiled, and did his best to put his anger on the back burner. For now.

"So, tell me about your newfound employment!"

She sniffed, and pulled out of the hug.

"Um… I'm working for a company called Deep Facet. They make rhythm games, and needed testers. I'm going in, playing video games, noting every problem I see, and so on."

He nodded, thinking about it. "So, what benefits do you have? And what are the hours like?"

She looked down, embarrassed. "Benefits? Right… Well, they have a great health plan. Hours are flexible, it's more about making a quota. Pay is… well, 'generous' is putting it lightly."

"What does that mean?"

"Two thousand a month, after taxes. Plus huge bonuses for… big finds."

His jaw dropped. Two thousand? His daughter was going to make more than him before she even hit sixteen. "How is that even legal?"

She jerked, and sputtered, "Of course it's legal! What do you mean?"

"Nothing, just that I'm now the supplementary income of the house," he grumbled, shaking his head and smiling. "Your old man barely makes two thirds what you do."

She frowned. "I didn't mean to-"

"No, really, it's fine. I just didn't expect to be… out-earned again. That's really great!" She was still frowning, so he quickly changed the subject. "So, what do you want to do, to celebrate?"

"Hmmm… well, we could go somewhere nice for dinner… any ideas?"

"How about… Guillermo's?"

Her eyes widened. "You mean Gino's, right? Not the ridiculously fancy place on the boardwalk?

He smiled. "Nope. Ridiculously fancy sounds like a proper celebration dinner."

"Dad…"

"No buts. We're going to go out and enjoy ourselves tonight!" He stood up, and she reluctantly followed. "Dinner and a movie. Tomorrow, we're gonna get to the bottom of this bullying situation, but for tonight, we're going to have fun. Now, go get ready. We'll leave at 4:30."

"Okay…"

He headed upstairs, and she followed behind as far as her room. He headed to his room, picked out a nice set of clothes, and laid them on the bed, and picked up the phone. The other calls could wait till tomorrow, but there was one call he would make tonight. He dialed the familiar number, and put the phone to his ear. A few rings later, it picked up.

"Danny? It's good to hear from you! How have you been?"

"I've had some ups and downs, Alan. The DWU is always facing some crisis, but I'm holding it together. How's work?"

"Pretty good. Always someone who wants joint custody of a dog or something, but otherwise it's been fairly normal. God, it must be, what, two years since we last talked? We should catch up sometime. My treat."

He laughed. "I'll have to take you up on that sometime. Unfortunately, tonight's call is mostly business."

"What's the problem? Don't tell me you got married?"

"No, no. I'm looking for some legal help, maybe a referral. Did you hear about the incident in January?"

"No?"

"I'm not sure how, it was in the news. Anyways, long story short, I've just found out that some pretty vicious bullies that put Taylor in the hospital in January are still getting away with things, and the staff aren't raising a finger to stop it."

Alan's voice hardened. "That sounds like criminal negligence, at least, and a lot of it. I think I'll clear my schedule for tomorrow afternoon, and you can fill me in on what you know."

"Sounds good. I'll talk to you tomorrow, then. Have a good night, Alan. Tell Zoe I said hi."

"Will do. Thanks for calling, I'll see you tomorrow." He hung up. Danny finished getting dressed, and headed downstairs.

Guillermo's was, if anything, even more of a high-class, high-cost establishment than he remembered. The only reason they even got a table was because it was a Wednesday afternoon, and even then, the place was almost full.

After mentally double-taking at the prices, he ordered the shrimp scampi, and Taylor got chicken alfredo al pesto. They slowly sipped their drinks, searching for something to talk about.

"So, what're you listening to? Anything good?" Ever since the hospital, she'd scarcely gone a minute without some form of music. The psychiatrist at the mental ward hypothesized that it was a coping mechanism; dealing with stress by listening to music was very common, and it wasn't like it did any harm.

"I'm on a bit of a classic rock kick right now. Some Queen, some ACDC, other big names."

"Really? I used to listen to that stuff when it was new!"

She put a hand to her face in exasperation, and sighed. "That, right there, is a perfect example of being a dad. Now, every time I listen to one of their songs, all I'll think is that my dad is so old he was my age when it came out."

"Yup. Then your next thought will be that that doesn't matter, because that stuff is just too good for me to ruin with my old age."

"True. Very true."

They lapsed back into silence. He glanced around, searching for something to say, and finding little that wasn't stepping into delicate territory. When did it get so hard to just talk to her?

He knew the answer a moment later; it was when he'd wallowed in grief after Annette. Failed to take care of the most important thing she'd left behind. Nothing new, just another thing he hadn't noticed until January, and been unable to confront until now.

"… for you?" He roused out of his depressing self-reflection, and turned back to Taylor. "Huh? Sorry, I spaced out."

She smiled. "I said, how's work going for you?"

"Oh, right. Well, the Merchants were making some trouble yesterday. At least, we think it was them. Could just be a bunch of drugged-out meth-heads, you know how it is. Anyway…" he regaled her with tales of his day-to-day, and she pretended to be interested like a good daughter should. She laughed at all the silly moments, frowned and showed empathy when he failed to get someone a job.

Their food came, and they both enjoyed it while they talked. He ignored the looks they got when a particularly dirty joke got aired in full; it was worth it for the embarrassed smile it got from Taylor. They were a father and daughter. Eventually, he paid the bill, and they walked to the theater. Taylor took over on the walk, giving funny tales of internet videos and music lyrics, talking wistfully about maybe learning to play violin, even sharing an earbud so he could listen to a song she was trying to compose.

They settled on an action movie that just got in from Aleph, and thoroughly enjoyed commenting on the ridiculously contrived plot that served as little more than a reason to have a bunch of old action movie stars together for one film. The movie itself was boring and bland, but Danny did enjoy the time he spent with his daughter. All too soon, though, the movie was over and yawns were coming in, so they headed home.

"Hey, Danny, over here!"

Danny swung his head in the direction of the voice, walking to the back of the coffee shop. Alan had taken a nice, private booth. Good. He slid into the seat, and Alan passed him a cup.

"You're still a coffee man, right?"

"Yeah, try as Taylor might to convert me to tea." He took a sip, savoring the flavor of the concoction. "Normally take it black, but I could use something a bit less bitter today. It's been a long one."

"Tell me about it? Before we get down to business?"

"Well, all day I've been calling up old contacts, people who owe me favors, that sort of thing. Prepping for war. From how Taylor's hinted at their reactions, they're willfully allowing some ridiculous stuff to go on in Winslow. If even half the stuff she says is true, we should have pushed to transfer our daughters out years ago."

"Really? Emma barely talks about school. Then again, she's been really into her modeling, and Sophia… well, I suppose she's just as uncomfortable talking about it as Taylor. Speaking of which… you mentioned an incident in January?"

"Right. January." He paused. Where to even start? He looked at his friend, considering. Alan took care of Taylor when he hadn't. It was only right that he hear the details.

"Well, for me, it started right around Christmas. I'd been fairly depressed, because it was the second Christmas without Annette, but even with that, I could tell Taylor was hurting. I- Alan, I knew she was hurting, and I just went to bed. I left her alone, because even after two years, I couldn't step up and care for my little girl!"

"Danny…"

"No, I'm sorry. This is gonna be hard. I've just been realizing how bad of a father I've been for a long time, and this latest revelation is a wake-up-call on that front." He took a deep breath. "Okay. So, I was a terrible father during late December. Completely missed the apprehension at the idea of going back to Winslow, missed all the signs, or rationalized them away."

"And her first day back, they beat her so bad she went to the hospital?"

He leveled a look at Alan, meeting his eyes. "They broke my baby girl, Alan." He paused, collected himself. "They- they shoved her in a locker. A locker full of rancid, rotting, bloody pads and tampons. Put her mother's flute in it. Put sharp things in it. Probably shit and pissed in it, too. And then, they left her there to die."

"Oh my god…"

"She barely survived. Massive systemic infections, severe blood loss, and she flatlined once on the way to the ER. She went insane for the better part of the month, had to be kept in a mental ward. Clung to the ruins of Annette's flute for two weeks. Probably has PTSD for the rest of her life." He clenched his fist, resting it on the table. Alan looked a little green.

"When I found out yesterday, that the bastards at the school, the ones who swore it was an isolated incident, the ones that told me they'd keep an eye out for her, are just letting it happen, and have been for two years?" His fingers were digging into his palms, but he didn't care. The pain helped him hold in his rage. "The only reason I didn't try to kill someone last night was because I had Taylor's first job to celebrate."

"That is… how could they? That kind of negligence... the vicious assault alone… how are they not in jail already?"

"Lack of evidence," he said with disgust. "Taylor was too busy being horrified at the contents of her locker to look at who pushed her, too busy screaming to identify their voices beyond reasonable doubt. The school settled with an offer to pay hospital bills, and I didn't have the money or time to do anything but accept."

"That will make it harder to prosecute, but I understand. God, I fell out of touch at the worst time. I had things going on, but I still should have tried." He looked around suddenly, then turned back to Danny. "Where's Taylor now?"

Danny unclenched his fists and made a placating gesture. "Don't worry. I've excused her from school for the next week. She's using the time to do some work for her new job, which, incidentally, is how we plan to pay for the legal side of things." Well, at least some of it. Two thousand a month was good, but he wasn't using more than half that on legal. If that ran out, he'd rather dip into his meager savings account than deprive his daughter of the fruits of her labor.

"Danny, you're bleeding!"

"Shit." His palms had a cut or two where his fingers had dug in too deep. "Pass me a napkin?"

"You don't want to go to the hospital?"

"No, this is nothing," he said, dabbing at the gashes with the napkin. "I'll be fine."

"If you say so… anyway, I'll have to see if anyone else in the office wants to take this one. I'll do it if nobody else does, but I'd much rather have someone who pursues criminal cases do it, so it gets done right, you know? I'll get back to you in the next day or two." He clapped a hand onto Danny's forearm. "We'll do whatever we can to help."

"Thanks, Alan. It's good to have you back."

"Same to you. Now tell me, other than this mess, how has life been treating you?"

Danny smiled, and started filling his friend in on the past two years. Alan was rusty on some of the politics, but he was happy to learn. They talked for a good hour or two, and set up a date to have a meal at Alan's house next week. Danny left the shop in a much better mood than he'd entered.

Together, they would make those bastards pay.