Umm... better late then never?
I know everyone (that cares) has been waiting a while for this, and hopefully it won't disappoint anyone. So, with no further adieu, I present to you the promised third part of my D.E.B.S. fic.
Title: Pantheon
Author: That'd be me. *grins* Andrew, Obsidian, call me what you want. But only if it's nice. ;)
Rating: R, or MA, whichever you understand better. ^_^
Comments: This is going to be a bit different then the other I've written or plan to write... Then again, many of the fics that are in the planning stage are 'different'. ;) This is going to be a crossover fic, but I'm not going to say yet what it's crossing over with, as I want it to be a surprise. *grins* Which I think it will be. Obviously, this is going to be an AU, but it'll be a bit more alternate then most, as this fic's Amy has something of a hidden past, which is going to shake quite a number of worlds when it surfaces. And if you thought there was angst in my last fic... *evil chuckle*
Legal Disclaimer: I do not own 'D.E.B.S.' That belongs to the fabulously talented Angela Robinson. 'The Pretender' was created by Steven Long Mitchell and Craig W. Van Sickle. (No idea who owns it now, as I don't think it's TNT anymore...)
So. Who guessed? :)
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Chapter Two
She slinked noiselessly through the corridors of The Centre, a gun that was really too big for her resting at her side, ready to be raised at a moment's notice.
Their Handlers had called this a "counter-terrorism exercise", but she hardly cared. As far as she was concerned, it was an excuse to get out of the rooms they were kept in and get some... well, not fresh air, in any sense, but new scenery, at least. And to see new people!
Not to mention it was much more interesting then those boring "simulations" they kept having to do.
The goal of the exercise was to locate and subdue a team of Sweepers posing as terrorists within the time allotted. Judging by some of the odd looks she'd gotten from some of the people that had seen her, the higher-ups hadn't even told them about the drill.
But then, this was the same group of people that had thought it a good idea to give guns to six-year-old children. Even if said guns were only loaded with paintball rounds... this time.
Supposedly, there was at least one Sweeper for each of them, which she knew would mean that anyone who didn't bag at least one would be reprimanded, as well as mocked mercilessly by some of the more... not-quite-as-nice members of the program.
And she hadn't found one yet.
She didn't know what they were expecting. She'd only been there for just about two years, now. She was hardly an expert.
But she couldn't be scared. Being scared, or even worse, letting Them know that you were scared... Well, that was about the worst thing you could do. She'd picked THAT up fairly quickly.
She wished that she could just find someone who would take her away from this horrible place, but everyone there worked for Them. She wouldn't find any help, and she knew it. They never would have let them loose in the building otherwise. And she couldn't go home... She felt tears threaten as the memory of her parents' pleading faces just before the car they were in exploded resurfaced, and fought them down. Crying was as bad as being afraid.
There were voices up ahead.
She zeroed in on them instinctively, disappointment welling up when she realized there were two of them. Both male, she noted automatically, one older, with a curious accent. The other was younger, and from the sound of it...
From the sound of it, they were having him do a Simulation.
Her heart leapt. Another Pretender? Was he nice? It would be nice to have someone to talk to, without having Them keeping a constant eye on what was said and done... But her training disdained "nice" in all its forms, knowing it to be a weakness. The Pretender, whoever he was, wasn't worth her time.
But he might know something, the lonely part of her piped up.
Hmmm. She chewed her lip nervously in contemplation. That was true. If he was kept in this part of The Centre, he would easily be able to spot anyone who was NOT supposed to be there.
She stayed crouched out of sight as the Simulation continued, feeling her frustration mount. She only had so much more time, after all! Eventually, though, they wrapped up, and the older man - Sydney, she'd heard him called - left. Crossing her fingers, she took a deep breath and slipped into the room.
The young man definitely seemed surprised to see her. "Can I help you?" he asked politely.
She smiled despite herself. He WAS nice! "I'm... looking for someone," she said shyly.
"Carrying around a gun?" This time, there were concern and displeasure evident in his voice.
"It isn't real," she said hastily. "We're... playing a game. I don't wanna lose..." She summoned up her best 'I'm cute and harmless and won't you please help me?' look. "Have you seen anyone come this way? A S-sweeper?" she asked, stumbling over the term.
For whatever reason, he believed her. Perhaps because the idea of someone arming a child and training her as a killer was utterly ridiculous to him? "Well, there was someone that came down here a while ago. He went in there," he said, pointing to a room farther down the hall. "I didn't see him come out, but I was... distracted." He seemed sorry he couldn't help her more.
She couldn't imagine why. "Thanks!" she chirped as she went off to finish the 'game', wishing mightily that she actually was playing one. Or at least a less serious one. She snuck down to the room the Pretender had indicated, paused near the door, then flung it open, throwing herself through instantly and twisting her body in mid-air in a hint of the athleticism that she would come to develop. Spotting him, she fired off several "rounds". Had she been using real bullets, they would have been fatal, she saw with a mixture of pride and disgusted horror.
Nevertheless... She took out her radio, fumbled through turning it on, and said, "Target... new-tra-lized." That was such a strange word, but They'd insisted on it being used to signal that the mission had been accomplished. She got an acknowledgment, and was ordered to stay where she was until someone came to get her. The Sweeper she'd "shot" went off to clean himself up.
With nothing better to do, she went back to the other Pretender. "I take it you won?" he asked, sounding amused.
"Yeah. Thanks," she said shyly.
"I'm Jarod." She stared at him blankly. "What's your name?" he prompted.
"S-" she cut herself off immediately. She didn't know if she was supposed to tell anyone her code name, but that was all she'd been called since she'd first been brought here. She actually had to think just to remember her own name, she realized with a pang of sadness and despair. And she surprised herself by actually wanting to tell this... To tell Jarod her name. "Umm... Amy. I'm Amy," she said finally.
"Nice to meet you, Amy."
"Amy?!" Jarod exclaimed, sounding as surprised to see her as she was to see him. It occurred to her that he would have thought she was dead, too. Ever since she'd first been able, though, she'd been keeping an eye on him, doing her best to track down his movements. So she knew that wherever Jarod went, The Centre wouldn't be far behind.
She felt a sudden, shockingly powerful impulse to pull the trigger of the gun still pointed at his head. He took a step closer, and she countered it with a step back, keeping her gun level. "What are you doing here?" she demanded angrily.
For some reason, he seemed surprised to find that she wasn't utterly ecstatic to see him. "I came here because of her," he said carefully, indicating the unconscious form of Ninotchka. Amy didn't take her eyes - or gun - off him for a second. "Because of the little boy she left orphaned."
Oh, hell, he was on one of his crusades. "She's done a lot more then that," she said, remembering the file she'd read on the assassin before leaving on the mission to surveil her "meeting" with the notorious Lucy Diamond.
Shit! Lucy! Lucy was still inside waiting for her, and she wasn't sure she could resolve this quickly enough to get back to her without making her suspicious.
"Is that why you're here? What happened to you? I thought you were dead!"
"You were meant to," she snapped, then made a decision and lowered her gun. She pointedly did NOT put it away. "And I'm here, in this city, because I live here. I'm here, as in, this bar, because I'm on a date." She couldn't help a little warm feeling at calling Lucy her date.
"And you're armed because...?"
"I'm armed because I'm a Deb."
Unfortunately, this didn't seem to clear up as much as she'd hoped. "I'm... not certain I'm familiar with that term."
She sighed, internally debating what to tell him. "No reason you would be," she said finally. "It's a fairly classified governmental agency. The D.E.B.S. - short for Discipline, Energy, Beauty, Strength. Sort of like a mix of the CIA, FBI, and NSA, only we wear plaid."
Jarod raised an eyebrow at that image, and she couldn't blame him at all. "I wouldn't have thought you'd want to join an organization like that, considering..." He trailed off.
She gave a short, humorless laugh. "Yeah, neither did I. But they sort of drafted me. I have to admit, though, it is nice to be able to use my skills to help people, and to save lives." She paused. "I'm sure you understand that. I have been... keeping an eye on you, when I was able."
He smiled at her gently, and she felt her reservations melt a little. "Yeah, I do. But how did they-?"
"There's a secret test, hidden in the S.A.T.," she interrupted. "Unlike the rest of it, though, it doesn't measure reading or writing or math skills, or anything like that. This test measures your innate ability to lie, cheat, fight and kill." She smiled, and even she could tell it was probably a bit of a sick one. "I got a perfect score. The only one ever." She shook her head. "Those who score well are recruited into a secret paramilitary academy. You could call us seductresses, or spies.... Or innocent, if you're a fool. We call ourselves D.E.B.S." Even as she spoke, her mind started racing. They needed to get rid of Ninotchka, and they needed to do it before The Centre team tracking Jarod showed up. While it was possible that they might well come and go without ever knowing Amy was there... she couldn't take the chance. And she had to admit, she was sick of hiding. Besides, the activities The Centre got up to were often almost ludicrously illegal, and as a cop, not to mention one of their countless victims, she wanted nothing more then to shut them down. That wouldn't be easy, or especially fast, but it was necessary, and not something she would have to do alone. But it meant telling the truth to her team, which might not go over very well. Hopefully, they'd eventually understand. Not to mention...
"That's... a little hard to believe," Jarod said finally, thankfully bringing her back to the present.
"I know. But it's true. Look, wait here a minute and keep an eye on the assassin, will you? Like I said, I'm here on a date, and I need to go explain why our date's getting cut short. And I need to make a phone call. After that..." She sighed. "I don't know. I'm guessing you had something you wanted to do with her, so if there's some way that it could be done without any possibility of her telling anyone anything about me?" She'd love to just turn her over to the police, but knew that even if she couldn't get a deal out of it - and knowing where to find Lucy Diamond no doubt would get her one - she'd still tell everyone about Amy and Lucy.
"I think that could be arranged," Jarod said, already visibly thinking of how it could be done.
She was somewhat reassured. He was very smart, after all, and she was confident that he could figure it out if he wanted to. "I'll be right back," she said, slipping back inside the Junk Pit, hiding her gun.
Lucy was right where she'd left her. As warned, much of the smoothie was gone. "Well, finally," Lucy began. "I was starting to wonder if you'd..." She trailed off as she saw the unhappy look on Amy's face. "What's wrong?"
Amy chewed nervously on her lip, a habit she'd never grown out of, and one which she hadn't quite yet noticed seemed to have an effect on Lucy. "That depends on how you define 'wrong', I guess," she stalled. "I, ah... Well, I ran into someone I grew up with on my way to the bathroom."
"That doesn't soundtoo bad," Lucy said slowly, clearly waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Amy obliged. "He doesn't know about my job, just yet... But he does watch enough news to be able to recognize YOU immediately. He also knows where I go to school, so I can't exactly just get rid of him without him making a call to find out if I'm okay." Damn it, why couldn't she stop lying? She promised herself that as soon as she was able to get Lucy alone, she'd tell her everything, no matter what. "Look, just give me a little time to take care of this, and I'll meet you back at your lair, all right?"
"Will you tell me what's bothering you then?" Lucy asked seriously.
It was a little strange having someone who could read her like that. Even on the rare occasions she'd dropped her mask a little back at the academy, none of the D.E.B.S. had ever caught on to anything.
She decided she liked it.
"I promise," she said, and leaned down to give Lucy a kiss, and it took all of her training to make her pull away, reminding her she had a job to do. "You be good 'til I get back," she said with a teasing smile.
Lucy chuckled. "That'll be the day," she said with that rakish grin of hers that Amy loved.
"Well... all right." She knew she was probably blushing a bit, but didn't care. "Just do your best."
"Always."
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Janet picked up the phone with a large amount of trepidation. Anyone watching no doubt would have thought she was just afraid that it would be bad news about Amy. Which she was, but not in the way they thought. She was terrified that someone would call in with the three words she feared most: 'I found her!'
No news was the best news, as the saying went. "Hello?" she said nervously.
"Janet."
Janet nearly jumped out of her plaid. "AMY?!" She instantly felt like smacking herself in the head. She really had to learn how to control those verbal outbursts of hers, she knew. Yelling out "fire!" in a crowded theater wouldn't have attracted so much attention so fast. In seconds, she was surrounded by concerned D.E.B.S.
"Got your messages." There was a pause, then an amused, "My mother? Really?"
"What's- Where- Give me a minute, please, people!" she nearly shouted at the crowd around her that kept peppering her with questions.
"Put me on speaker phone."
"Are you-?"
"Now. Please." Evidently, even when she was in a hurry, Amy couldn't help but be polite.
Mentally shrugging, and hoping like hell Amy knew what she was doing, Janet hit the button and hung up the receiver. "Max?" Amy's voice asked into the waiting room.
Said room instantly erupted into cheers, which, to her credit, Max managed to shush quickly, knowing that Amy wasn't quite safe just yet. "Where are you?"
"I don't know." A sigh. "Look, I don't have much time, so please don't interrupt, okay? I'm all right, and if things go the way I plan, I should be home within the next couple of days. But stop looking for me. I'm safe enough for the moment, but if you guys keep it up, that could change."
"That's not exactly up to us," Max said warily. Clearly, she thought Amy was being compelled to make this call.
Amy sighed again. "She's not here listening, if that's what you're thinking. But I need you to talk to Ms. Petrie anyway, so that works out."
"Ms. Petrie?" Janet squeaked.
"I need you to tell her something for me. I'll explain more fully when I get back, but in the meantime she needs to get the ball rolling on this. And most importantly, I need you to tell her I said 'Olympus Ascending'. That's ascending, not descending. You need to tell her that EXACTLY, all right? She'll understand what it means."
"'Olympus Ascending'. Uh, right, got it." Max clearly didn't understand it, though.
"Right, good. And when she tells you what's going on... just keep in mind that I'm sorry. Sorry for getting you into this, sorry for not telling you... I wanted to, but it was just... Well, I just couldn't talk about it. So I'm sorry you have to find out like this." There was a pause, then Amy's voice came back, lower and more urgent. "She's coming back. I have to go. But I will be back soon, don't worry. And Janet?"
"Um, y-yes?"
"I expect to find my sweaters exactly where I left them." There was a click, and the line disconnected.
**********************************************
When he'd first come to Los Angeles, Jarod had had a simple goal in mind: catch up with the assassin that had left Joel Miller an orphan and deliver her to justice.
That goal had been drastically complicated by the sudden and wildly improbable appearance of Amy, and even more so by her insistence that they couldn't just turn her over to the police or FBI.
And she'd given him a very dirty look when he'd suggested that they turn her over to the D.E.B.S.
In the end, Jarod had called in a favor from someone he knew at the docks and had her loaded onto a ship bound for Russia, heavily sedated. The Russian authorities, according to Amy, were equally interested in speaking with her, and this way no one from The Centre was likely to hear about any of it.
This still left them with one fairly sizable problem: Miss Parker and her team would be there shortly, and without a distraction, would keep digging into what Jarod had been doing there. And knowing Miss Parker as he did, it was almost inevitable that she'd find some sign of Amy.
Amy shook her head in disgust as she drove his rented car through the city. "You and those stupid clues of yours. If you'd just quit taunting The Centre, they'd have a MUCH harder time finding you, and you know it."
"That's not why I do it," he said. He was fairly confident she knew that, but just wasn't in any mood to care. "Besides, the more they look for me, the less time they can spend on looking for the rest of my family."
Amy was silent for a long moment. "You found them?"
"Found them... was separated from them again..." He sighed. Despite what Amy might have thought, he knew The Centre would never leave him alone, whether he left hints as to his next move behind or not.
"You'll have to tell me about it later," she said, taking a right turn.
"I'd say we both have a lot to tell." Like why she wasn't as dead as the others she'd trained with were.
"I know." She shifted uncomfortably. "But I promised someone else that I'd explain everything, and I don't want to have to go through this more then once."
"Do the D.E.B.S. know?"
She was silent for a long moment. "The higher ups do," she said at last. "I didn't tell them. They were aware of The Centre, if not everything they've done. Spotting a Pretender, especially one with my training, wasn't all THAT hard, I guess. I did... fill in the blanks for them, though." She sighed. "But that can wait. Right now, if we want to ditch Parker and get you out of the city safely in the limited time we've got, we're going to need some help."
"I thought you didn't want to bring your teammates in on this," he pointed out. He could understand not wanting to put anyone else in danger, but the idea of a paramilitary academy that knew about The Centre and wasn't afraid to take them on - which was the impression Amy was giving, whether she knew it or not - was a new one.
She smiled mysteriously. "Who ever said we were going to get help from the D.E.B.S.?" She pulled up in front of a warehouse and lead him inside, waving aside the armed men of questionable moral integrity as if she had every right to. Amazingly, they let her, even if they did insist on patting him down.
There had to be some kind of innocent explanation for this, but damned if he could figure out what it was.
Then he saw her, and everything got even more confusing.
"And who's this?" a dark-haired young woman asked as she came down a set of metal stairs.
"This is Jarod. He's the one I told you about, from back h- From where I was raised." Amy met her at the bottom of the stairs with a kiss. "Jarod, I want you to meet Lucy - my girlfriend."
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Well, that was certainly a long time in coming, wasn't it? Hopefully, it was worth the wait. It probably could have stood going through a beta, but all things considered, it was the best I could do just now.
Next time - The Explanation! :)
Title: Pantheon
Author: That'd be me. *grins* Andrew, Obsidian, call me what you want. But only if it's nice. ;)
Rating: R, or MA, whichever you understand better. ^_^
Comments: This is going to be a bit different then the other I've written or plan to write... Then again, many of the fics that are in the planning stage are 'different'. ;) This is going to be a crossover fic, but I'm not going to say yet what it's crossing over with, as I want it to be a surprise. *grins* Which I think it will be. Obviously, this is going to be an AU, but it'll be a bit more alternate then most, as this fic's Amy has something of a hidden past, which is going to shake quite a number of worlds when it surfaces. And if you thought there was angst in my last fic... *evil chuckle*
Legal Disclaimer: I do not own 'D.E.B.S.' That belongs to the fabulously talented Angela Robinson. 'The Pretender' was created by Steven Long Mitchell and Craig W. Van Sickle. (No idea who owns it now, as I don't think it's TNT anymore...)
So. Who guessed? :)
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Chapter Two
She slinked noiselessly through the corridors of The Centre, a gun that was really too big for her resting at her side, ready to be raised at a moment's notice.
Their Handlers had called this a "counter-terrorism exercise", but she hardly cared. As far as she was concerned, it was an excuse to get out of the rooms they were kept in and get some... well, not fresh air, in any sense, but new scenery, at least. And to see new people!
Not to mention it was much more interesting then those boring "simulations" they kept having to do.
The goal of the exercise was to locate and subdue a team of Sweepers posing as terrorists within the time allotted. Judging by some of the odd looks she'd gotten from some of the people that had seen her, the higher-ups hadn't even told them about the drill.
But then, this was the same group of people that had thought it a good idea to give guns to six-year-old children. Even if said guns were only loaded with paintball rounds... this time.
Supposedly, there was at least one Sweeper for each of them, which she knew would mean that anyone who didn't bag at least one would be reprimanded, as well as mocked mercilessly by some of the more... not-quite-as-nice members of the program.
And she hadn't found one yet.
She didn't know what they were expecting. She'd only been there for just about two years, now. She was hardly an expert.
But she couldn't be scared. Being scared, or even worse, letting Them know that you were scared... Well, that was about the worst thing you could do. She'd picked THAT up fairly quickly.
She wished that she could just find someone who would take her away from this horrible place, but everyone there worked for Them. She wouldn't find any help, and she knew it. They never would have let them loose in the building otherwise. And she couldn't go home... She felt tears threaten as the memory of her parents' pleading faces just before the car they were in exploded resurfaced, and fought them down. Crying was as bad as being afraid.
There were voices up ahead.
She zeroed in on them instinctively, disappointment welling up when she realized there were two of them. Both male, she noted automatically, one older, with a curious accent. The other was younger, and from the sound of it...
From the sound of it, they were having him do a Simulation.
Her heart leapt. Another Pretender? Was he nice? It would be nice to have someone to talk to, without having Them keeping a constant eye on what was said and done... But her training disdained "nice" in all its forms, knowing it to be a weakness. The Pretender, whoever he was, wasn't worth her time.
But he might know something, the lonely part of her piped up.
Hmmm. She chewed her lip nervously in contemplation. That was true. If he was kept in this part of The Centre, he would easily be able to spot anyone who was NOT supposed to be there.
She stayed crouched out of sight as the Simulation continued, feeling her frustration mount. She only had so much more time, after all! Eventually, though, they wrapped up, and the older man - Sydney, she'd heard him called - left. Crossing her fingers, she took a deep breath and slipped into the room.
The young man definitely seemed surprised to see her. "Can I help you?" he asked politely.
She smiled despite herself. He WAS nice! "I'm... looking for someone," she said shyly.
"Carrying around a gun?" This time, there were concern and displeasure evident in his voice.
"It isn't real," she said hastily. "We're... playing a game. I don't wanna lose..." She summoned up her best 'I'm cute and harmless and won't you please help me?' look. "Have you seen anyone come this way? A S-sweeper?" she asked, stumbling over the term.
For whatever reason, he believed her. Perhaps because the idea of someone arming a child and training her as a killer was utterly ridiculous to him? "Well, there was someone that came down here a while ago. He went in there," he said, pointing to a room farther down the hall. "I didn't see him come out, but I was... distracted." He seemed sorry he couldn't help her more.
She couldn't imagine why. "Thanks!" she chirped as she went off to finish the 'game', wishing mightily that she actually was playing one. Or at least a less serious one. She snuck down to the room the Pretender had indicated, paused near the door, then flung it open, throwing herself through instantly and twisting her body in mid-air in a hint of the athleticism that she would come to develop. Spotting him, she fired off several "rounds". Had she been using real bullets, they would have been fatal, she saw with a mixture of pride and disgusted horror.
Nevertheless... She took out her radio, fumbled through turning it on, and said, "Target... new-tra-lized." That was such a strange word, but They'd insisted on it being used to signal that the mission had been accomplished. She got an acknowledgment, and was ordered to stay where she was until someone came to get her. The Sweeper she'd "shot" went off to clean himself up.
With nothing better to do, she went back to the other Pretender. "I take it you won?" he asked, sounding amused.
"Yeah. Thanks," she said shyly.
"I'm Jarod." She stared at him blankly. "What's your name?" he prompted.
"S-" she cut herself off immediately. She didn't know if she was supposed to tell anyone her code name, but that was all she'd been called since she'd first been brought here. She actually had to think just to remember her own name, she realized with a pang of sadness and despair. And she surprised herself by actually wanting to tell this... To tell Jarod her name. "Umm... Amy. I'm Amy," she said finally.
"Nice to meet you, Amy."
"Amy?!" Jarod exclaimed, sounding as surprised to see her as she was to see him. It occurred to her that he would have thought she was dead, too. Ever since she'd first been able, though, she'd been keeping an eye on him, doing her best to track down his movements. So she knew that wherever Jarod went, The Centre wouldn't be far behind.
She felt a sudden, shockingly powerful impulse to pull the trigger of the gun still pointed at his head. He took a step closer, and she countered it with a step back, keeping her gun level. "What are you doing here?" she demanded angrily.
For some reason, he seemed surprised to find that she wasn't utterly ecstatic to see him. "I came here because of her," he said carefully, indicating the unconscious form of Ninotchka. Amy didn't take her eyes - or gun - off him for a second. "Because of the little boy she left orphaned."
Oh, hell, he was on one of his crusades. "She's done a lot more then that," she said, remembering the file she'd read on the assassin before leaving on the mission to surveil her "meeting" with the notorious Lucy Diamond.
Shit! Lucy! Lucy was still inside waiting for her, and she wasn't sure she could resolve this quickly enough to get back to her without making her suspicious.
"Is that why you're here? What happened to you? I thought you were dead!"
"You were meant to," she snapped, then made a decision and lowered her gun. She pointedly did NOT put it away. "And I'm here, in this city, because I live here. I'm here, as in, this bar, because I'm on a date." She couldn't help a little warm feeling at calling Lucy her date.
"And you're armed because...?"
"I'm armed because I'm a Deb."
Unfortunately, this didn't seem to clear up as much as she'd hoped. "I'm... not certain I'm familiar with that term."
She sighed, internally debating what to tell him. "No reason you would be," she said finally. "It's a fairly classified governmental agency. The D.E.B.S. - short for Discipline, Energy, Beauty, Strength. Sort of like a mix of the CIA, FBI, and NSA, only we wear plaid."
Jarod raised an eyebrow at that image, and she couldn't blame him at all. "I wouldn't have thought you'd want to join an organization like that, considering..." He trailed off.
She gave a short, humorless laugh. "Yeah, neither did I. But they sort of drafted me. I have to admit, though, it is nice to be able to use my skills to help people, and to save lives." She paused. "I'm sure you understand that. I have been... keeping an eye on you, when I was able."
He smiled at her gently, and she felt her reservations melt a little. "Yeah, I do. But how did they-?"
"There's a secret test, hidden in the S.A.T.," she interrupted. "Unlike the rest of it, though, it doesn't measure reading or writing or math skills, or anything like that. This test measures your innate ability to lie, cheat, fight and kill." She smiled, and even she could tell it was probably a bit of a sick one. "I got a perfect score. The only one ever." She shook her head. "Those who score well are recruited into a secret paramilitary academy. You could call us seductresses, or spies.... Or innocent, if you're a fool. We call ourselves D.E.B.S." Even as she spoke, her mind started racing. They needed to get rid of Ninotchka, and they needed to do it before The Centre team tracking Jarod showed up. While it was possible that they might well come and go without ever knowing Amy was there... she couldn't take the chance. And she had to admit, she was sick of hiding. Besides, the activities The Centre got up to were often almost ludicrously illegal, and as a cop, not to mention one of their countless victims, she wanted nothing more then to shut them down. That wouldn't be easy, or especially fast, but it was necessary, and not something she would have to do alone. But it meant telling the truth to her team, which might not go over very well. Hopefully, they'd eventually understand. Not to mention...
"That's... a little hard to believe," Jarod said finally, thankfully bringing her back to the present.
"I know. But it's true. Look, wait here a minute and keep an eye on the assassin, will you? Like I said, I'm here on a date, and I need to go explain why our date's getting cut short. And I need to make a phone call. After that..." She sighed. "I don't know. I'm guessing you had something you wanted to do with her, so if there's some way that it could be done without any possibility of her telling anyone anything about me?" She'd love to just turn her over to the police, but knew that even if she couldn't get a deal out of it - and knowing where to find Lucy Diamond no doubt would get her one - she'd still tell everyone about Amy and Lucy.
"I think that could be arranged," Jarod said, already visibly thinking of how it could be done.
She was somewhat reassured. He was very smart, after all, and she was confident that he could figure it out if he wanted to. "I'll be right back," she said, slipping back inside the Junk Pit, hiding her gun.
Lucy was right where she'd left her. As warned, much of the smoothie was gone. "Well, finally," Lucy began. "I was starting to wonder if you'd..." She trailed off as she saw the unhappy look on Amy's face. "What's wrong?"
Amy chewed nervously on her lip, a habit she'd never grown out of, and one which she hadn't quite yet noticed seemed to have an effect on Lucy. "That depends on how you define 'wrong', I guess," she stalled. "I, ah... Well, I ran into someone I grew up with on my way to the bathroom."
"That doesn't soundtoo bad," Lucy said slowly, clearly waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Amy obliged. "He doesn't know about my job, just yet... But he does watch enough news to be able to recognize YOU immediately. He also knows where I go to school, so I can't exactly just get rid of him without him making a call to find out if I'm okay." Damn it, why couldn't she stop lying? She promised herself that as soon as she was able to get Lucy alone, she'd tell her everything, no matter what. "Look, just give me a little time to take care of this, and I'll meet you back at your lair, all right?"
"Will you tell me what's bothering you then?" Lucy asked seriously.
It was a little strange having someone who could read her like that. Even on the rare occasions she'd dropped her mask a little back at the academy, none of the D.E.B.S. had ever caught on to anything.
She decided she liked it.
"I promise," she said, and leaned down to give Lucy a kiss, and it took all of her training to make her pull away, reminding her she had a job to do. "You be good 'til I get back," she said with a teasing smile.
Lucy chuckled. "That'll be the day," she said with that rakish grin of hers that Amy loved.
"Well... all right." She knew she was probably blushing a bit, but didn't care. "Just do your best."
"Always."
**********************************************
Janet picked up the phone with a large amount of trepidation. Anyone watching no doubt would have thought she was just afraid that it would be bad news about Amy. Which she was, but not in the way they thought. She was terrified that someone would call in with the three words she feared most: 'I found her!'
No news was the best news, as the saying went. "Hello?" she said nervously.
"Janet."
Janet nearly jumped out of her plaid. "AMY?!" She instantly felt like smacking herself in the head. She really had to learn how to control those verbal outbursts of hers, she knew. Yelling out "fire!" in a crowded theater wouldn't have attracted so much attention so fast. In seconds, she was surrounded by concerned D.E.B.S.
"Got your messages." There was a pause, then an amused, "My mother? Really?"
"What's- Where- Give me a minute, please, people!" she nearly shouted at the crowd around her that kept peppering her with questions.
"Put me on speaker phone."
"Are you-?"
"Now. Please." Evidently, even when she was in a hurry, Amy couldn't help but be polite.
Mentally shrugging, and hoping like hell Amy knew what she was doing, Janet hit the button and hung up the receiver. "Max?" Amy's voice asked into the waiting room.
Said room instantly erupted into cheers, which, to her credit, Max managed to shush quickly, knowing that Amy wasn't quite safe just yet. "Where are you?"
"I don't know." A sigh. "Look, I don't have much time, so please don't interrupt, okay? I'm all right, and if things go the way I plan, I should be home within the next couple of days. But stop looking for me. I'm safe enough for the moment, but if you guys keep it up, that could change."
"That's not exactly up to us," Max said warily. Clearly, she thought Amy was being compelled to make this call.
Amy sighed again. "She's not here listening, if that's what you're thinking. But I need you to talk to Ms. Petrie anyway, so that works out."
"Ms. Petrie?" Janet squeaked.
"I need you to tell her something for me. I'll explain more fully when I get back, but in the meantime she needs to get the ball rolling on this. And most importantly, I need you to tell her I said 'Olympus Ascending'. That's ascending, not descending. You need to tell her that EXACTLY, all right? She'll understand what it means."
"'Olympus Ascending'. Uh, right, got it." Max clearly didn't understand it, though.
"Right, good. And when she tells you what's going on... just keep in mind that I'm sorry. Sorry for getting you into this, sorry for not telling you... I wanted to, but it was just... Well, I just couldn't talk about it. So I'm sorry you have to find out like this." There was a pause, then Amy's voice came back, lower and more urgent. "She's coming back. I have to go. But I will be back soon, don't worry. And Janet?"
"Um, y-yes?"
"I expect to find my sweaters exactly where I left them." There was a click, and the line disconnected.
**********************************************
When he'd first come to Los Angeles, Jarod had had a simple goal in mind: catch up with the assassin that had left Joel Miller an orphan and deliver her to justice.
That goal had been drastically complicated by the sudden and wildly improbable appearance of Amy, and even more so by her insistence that they couldn't just turn her over to the police or FBI.
And she'd given him a very dirty look when he'd suggested that they turn her over to the D.E.B.S.
In the end, Jarod had called in a favor from someone he knew at the docks and had her loaded onto a ship bound for Russia, heavily sedated. The Russian authorities, according to Amy, were equally interested in speaking with her, and this way no one from The Centre was likely to hear about any of it.
This still left them with one fairly sizable problem: Miss Parker and her team would be there shortly, and without a distraction, would keep digging into what Jarod had been doing there. And knowing Miss Parker as he did, it was almost inevitable that she'd find some sign of Amy.
Amy shook her head in disgust as she drove his rented car through the city. "You and those stupid clues of yours. If you'd just quit taunting The Centre, they'd have a MUCH harder time finding you, and you know it."
"That's not why I do it," he said. He was fairly confident she knew that, but just wasn't in any mood to care. "Besides, the more they look for me, the less time they can spend on looking for the rest of my family."
Amy was silent for a long moment. "You found them?"
"Found them... was separated from them again..." He sighed. Despite what Amy might have thought, he knew The Centre would never leave him alone, whether he left hints as to his next move behind or not.
"You'll have to tell me about it later," she said, taking a right turn.
"I'd say we both have a lot to tell." Like why she wasn't as dead as the others she'd trained with were.
"I know." She shifted uncomfortably. "But I promised someone else that I'd explain everything, and I don't want to have to go through this more then once."
"Do the D.E.B.S. know?"
She was silent for a long moment. "The higher ups do," she said at last. "I didn't tell them. They were aware of The Centre, if not everything they've done. Spotting a Pretender, especially one with my training, wasn't all THAT hard, I guess. I did... fill in the blanks for them, though." She sighed. "But that can wait. Right now, if we want to ditch Parker and get you out of the city safely in the limited time we've got, we're going to need some help."
"I thought you didn't want to bring your teammates in on this," he pointed out. He could understand not wanting to put anyone else in danger, but the idea of a paramilitary academy that knew about The Centre and wasn't afraid to take them on - which was the impression Amy was giving, whether she knew it or not - was a new one.
She smiled mysteriously. "Who ever said we were going to get help from the D.E.B.S.?" She pulled up in front of a warehouse and lead him inside, waving aside the armed men of questionable moral integrity as if she had every right to. Amazingly, they let her, even if they did insist on patting him down.
There had to be some kind of innocent explanation for this, but damned if he could figure out what it was.
Then he saw her, and everything got even more confusing.
"And who's this?" a dark-haired young woman asked as she came down a set of metal stairs.
"This is Jarod. He's the one I told you about, from back h- From where I was raised." Amy met her at the bottom of the stairs with a kiss. "Jarod, I want you to meet Lucy - my girlfriend."
________________________________________________________________________
Well, that was certainly a long time in coming, wasn't it? Hopefully, it was worth the wait. It probably could have stood going through a beta, but all things considered, it was the best I could do just now.
Next time - The Explanation! :)