by Alana Melos
“We’re matching your genescan to evidence left at the scenes now… and that’s not even including the thefts and assaults we could charge you for.” She gave me a stern look and I shrugged. I wanted to lean back in the chair and cross my legs, but the cuffs were attached to a loop in the heavy metal table about in the middle. As a result, I was forced to rest on my elbows sort of hunched over to get any sort of comfort at all. “When the results come back, you’re going away for a long, long time… but we can tell the district attorney you worked with us and commute part of your sentence.”
“You get your interrogation techniques from TV?” I asked her, my voice snide.
“I’m just giving you a chance to make things easier on yourself, Capricious Whim,” she said. “Factoring in your powers… telepathy and telekinesis, is it? Factoring that in, well, you’re looking at several life sentences, back to back.”
“So what, you’re going to get me only one life sentence instead?” I had to roll my eyes at that.
“Joke now,” the cop said, her voice straining to stay pleasant. “It won’t be so funny when you’re sentenced.”
I opened my mouth to reply to that, but someone knocked on the door. When it cracked open and Septimus poked his head in, I snarled and yanked on the cuffs hard, wanting to break them. I was going to wring his scrawny little neck. It was his fault I was here. I didn’t like beating people to death with my hands, but for him I’d make an exception.
“I want some time alone with the suspect,” he said, giving the lady cop a tight smile.
She rolled her eyes and stood up, looking somewhat less than happy. He stepped more fully into the room and she stopped by him, whispering heated words in his ear. The expression on his face changed from slightly abashed to contrite in a matter of moments, then he shrugged. When she turned back to me, she shook her head and I could see a slight trace of something soft in her eye. Without my ‘pathy though, it was impossible to decipher a single swift look.
When Septimus and I were alone in the room, I half stood. “Come to rub salt in the wound, cop?” I snarled at him. My legs weren’t bound and I still wore my stiletto boots. I hoped he came near me.
“It’s not like that,” he said swiftly, moving around the table. I tensed, waiting for him to get into a favorable position for me to do some damage. “The mic and vid is off, but people are still watching, so I’m real sorry here.”
“Sorry for what?” I asked, but he stepped behind me and put his hands on my hips, his thumbs on my ass. I yanked and pulled on the cuffs like a wild woman. When he looked up, I stepped back and drove my heel into his foot. It didn’t, sadly, pierce the leather hiking boots he wore, but they weren’t steel-toed either. That had to hurt.
I felt him tense behind me, but he only let out a low hiss to let loose the pain. “It’s not like that, but it’s got to look like that, so relax, I’m not doing anything,” he said, but I could hear the embarrassment in his voice. “Just relax, OK?”
“What… are you kidding me? Is this what cops do for fun?” I kept thrashing until he put one of his feet on the inside of mine and made my legs spread wide. At the same time, he moved his hands to my back and pressed down, so I was flat on the table. My cheek burned against the cold metal and I took back my thoughts about beating him to death. I wouldn’t kill him. Oh, no. I would think of something much, much worse for him.
I felt him rustle behind me and then he lay over me, the weight of his upper body pressing into my back. In my ear he whispered, “This is a … not so clean precinct, for all it being on the good side of town,” he said. “It was the only way I could get in to see you. I’m not… just stop moving, I’m not going to do anything!”
“Then why are you here?” I hissed between my teeth. I watched him from the corner of my eye. I examined his expression as carefully as I could, trying to discern if he was telling the truth or not. As much as I hated white hats, they did have a tendency towards truth telling.
“Because it’s my fault they came down on you before,” he said. “Emily called them--”
“That bitch,” I growled. “Figures.” Too chicken to do anything to me in person, she had to tattle on me to the cops.
Septimus shook me where I lay, his thighs pressed up tight against me. “Hey, I protested. We got into a fight about it, but she'd already called.” I heard the regret in his voice. “Your friend, Rory? He pulled me aside afterwards and, uh, well, threatened to eat me if I didn’t help.”
I snorted a laugh, which rattled my chains. “He could,” I said. “He probably would too.” I didn’t think he would, but you never knew.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said as his hands ran up my back and then to the sides to plant them firmly on either side of me on the table. He leaned over me, talking in a quiet, steady voice. “Look, I know you’re a murderer, and you should be in jail, but--”
“But what?” I asked, bucking against him, trying to get him off of me. Cuffed as I was, there was no way, but I tried.
“I feel like I tricked you,” he said. “When we, you know. I knew you were on the wrong side of the law, and I just… you were… it was really good, but I should have said something. Maybe if I had, you wouldn’t have done what you did.”
I stopped my struggles and turned my head as best I could to look at him. “You’re trying to make it up for me for not telling me you were a cop right away?” The logic didn’t make sense to me. Not one bit. “You think you lied to me, and so you’re letting me go… and get away with murder? A murder I did right in front of you?”
“In some ways, it’s my fault,” he said. “I can’t stand the idea that you’re in jail because of something I didn’t do, something I could have prevented with just a little forethought.”
I didn’t have any words to say because that was taking the personal responsibility thing about ten steps too far. The thought wouldn’t process through my brain until I remembered those faint threads starting, watching them grow before I had stormed out after learning he was a hero. He had a crush on me, or some sort of friendly affection, infatuation, however you wanted to put it. I shook my head. I almost felt bad for using him, but it didn’t matter what his reasons were for helping. The end result did: he wanted to help me escape.
“If you say so,” I said when I trusted myself to talk politely and not be snide. “What’s the plan?”
“I saw a makeshift lock pick in your things,” he replied in a low voice as he ground against me. Now that I was on board, he leaned back and let his hands run over my body. “I’ve got it here. I just had to have the opportunity to pass it to you.”
I licked my lips and wiggled against him. Since I wasn’t in any danger--at least not immediate danger--the idea of him taking me while I was cuffed like this was… kind of hot. I didn’t like cops, true, but I’d already screwed him once. Although there were other cops watching…. I think I actually flushed a little at the thought. I wasn’t an exhibitionist or anything, nor did I care if people thought I should adhere to some archaic morality which had no place in this world. It was the thought of sex and doing something new that triggered my arousal. How many villains could say they fucked a cop in the middle of a police station then sauntered out? None that I knew of… and on the other side of the coin, if the cops here thought I was a pushover, they’d be in for a rude surprise if they happened upon me on the street.
Perhaps it was a flimsy excuse and perhaps it was just being chained up and unable to get away if I wanted. This wasn’t like the games Ger and I played. I knew I could escape at any time there. In here, it would be for real. The perverseness of it made me laugh and I wiggled harder against Tim. He grew hard against my ass, but he wasn’t quite there yet. It was an automatic reaction rather than any real interest on his part.
“So… how are you going to slip it to me?” I asked, my voice turning husky.
“Ah… what?” he said, his hands freezing for a second.
I pushed my rear against him firmly and
licked my lips. “You heard me.”
“I was going to… ah, I was going to give it to you on top of an energy bar you had in your pockets… I… what are you doing?” He kept moving himself to keep up the ruse, but wasn’t really a trick anymore for the other cops benefit.
“Don’t like the idea of your friends watching?” I asked him, shaking my head at his reluctance.
“No, but th… I mean, I didn’t… I wasn’t going….” Septimus trailed off. He nudged my ass with his hips, rubbing his clothed length against me absently.
“Don’t you think it would be best to be authentic?” I asked sweetly. “If you can’t tell, I’m ready to go.”
“I don’t want them to think I…” he stammered. I heard the blush in his voice. “Usually it’s a little manhandling, a little… you know… rubbing, but that’s it. It’s shameful, yes, and it takes advantage of people, but it’s not--”
The building shook, and he swallowed his words as he stumbled. “What the--?” he asked of no one, moving away from me.
“Hey don’t leave me here!” I said, gesturing with my hands. “The bar, the bar!” The building shook again and a little bit of dust filtered down from the lights above. Whatever hit the cop shop was huge.
“Right,” he said, leaning over me again to place one of Ger’s energy bars between my cuffed hands. On top of it was the bent bobby pin from earlier. I snatched it and concealed the pin in my palm. “I have to go.” He stood up straight and walked quickly to the door as we heard the crack of concrete and a shattering of glass.
“Where’s Re...oh never mind,” I muttered as he closed the door behind him. I opened up the energy bar and munched on it while I concentrated on picking the locks on my cuffs. In better lighting and having refreshed my skill set in this not long ago, it only took a minute to have them both open. I heard a crunching noise outside and some gunfire. The police station was under attack by something. Was it Richter? Had he followed Rebekah and I after we’d gotten pinched?
I had only one way to tell. I eased the door open and glanced out. The door stood in a hallway, but the commotion reverberated through here loud as thunder. I heard a loud crack, then echoing gunfire to my right. No one paid any attention to the hallway as I crept into it and closed the door behind me. The cops had a much, much bigger problem on their hands. When I saw it, I had to clap a hand over my mouth to stop from laughing. A giant monster made of snow tried to force its way into the front of the building. The snapping I heard had been the door frame of the main entrance.
Stopping for a moment to take in the sight, I saw it wasn’t just snow. Someone had spray painted it with black and orange, giving it misshapen “coal” eyes and a long fat “carrot stick” nose, as well as an angry dark slash of black for a mouth. When it reached inside, I saw the arms were made of ice, long and spindly and covered with dripping black paint. Over the creature’s belly that same someone had painted “FU FUZZ!”, which made me giggle before I could stop myself. Its mouth worked, opening and closing like a regular mouth though no sounds came from it. It shoved its massive bulk in the hole it’d created as the cops shot their ineffectual guns. As the giant monster reached for a cop with the black fingers made of ice, the cop ducked out of the way, losing his hat in the process. They couldn’t hurt it and it couldn’t really catch them. It was a Snowman Standoff.
No time to join in the antics, I did a quick mental sweep for Septimus since I was out of the inhibitor room. Shock at the sight of the creature rolled through his mind, as well as a touch of shame. I mentally tapped on his brain as a polite way to ask for entrance. He didn’t get it, so I ventured, Have time for a quick chat?
Caprice? he thought, distracted by the snowman. Other cops were on the radio, calling for metahuman backup.
Yes, it’s me, I’m free, I said. Thanks. Where’s the Nacht Sirene?
Nacht S… oh, you mean Ms. Prince, he replied as he got the hang of the telepathic communication. She’s in the room next to you.
Ms. Prince, I groaned to him as I backed up down the hallway. Don’t tell me she was carrying her driver’s license.
Yes, yes she was, he sent back, with a wave of amusement. She’s a little, er, new to the game.
I reached the room which held Rebekah and tried the door. Unlocked, it swung open unimpeded and revealed Rebekah sitting there, cuffed to a table as I had been. I closed the door behind me as the huge snowman struggled to get inside, swatting at the officers nearest to it. The connection with Septimus cut off as if severed by a chainsaw and I bent to work unlocking her cuffs. When she stood free rubbing her wrists, we made our way outside and I re-established the connection with Tim.
Irritation and annoyance overwhelmed me for a second and I caught his thought quite clearly, Didn’t think there would be this much property damage, but at least no one’s getting hurt.
You did this? I asked him, incredulous. The Siren and I edged our way down the hallway, away from the giant malevolent snowman, towards the rear of the station. There had to be a back exit around here somewhere. We couldn’t go out the front.
Not me, he replied in a hurry. Your friend, Rory, ah, Mauler I mean. He said he’d get a distraction once we knew where you were being held. As long as I could get you loose, he said he’d take care of the rest… and here we are. The feel of his thoughts were defensive, as if he were trying to justify it to himself.
Well… thanks, I said. Look, we’re even. I won’t hold you being a cop against you.
The hallway turned into a T-square and we looked down both ways. I didn’t see an exit sign and it held no other clues to the direction of the back. I must have broadcast that too loudly as Septimus piped up, To the right. I have your things in the trash can there, by the emergency exit. He paused, You better hurry. They just got Haika on the scene, and she’ll make short work of the snow.
The name Haika brought to his mind the picture of a Japanese woman, short with unnatural red hair, a furious fighter who manipulated fire. I… I paused for a moment, not sure what to say. I’m sorry we didn’t get to fuck again. It would have been fun.
I sensed his laugh, which he turned into a not-convincing cough in realtime. Maybe next time, he sent, along with a thread of affection. Try not to kill anyone, OK?
I make no promises, I returned, trying to ignore his feelings. Whether or not it was his fault, he’d done good by me here. I didn’t want to make him an enemy if I didn’t have to, which I thought was very moderately minded of me. The kindler, gentler Caprice was making new allies already. The two of us moved down the hall. A cop came out of the door to our right. Before he could shout, the Nacht Siren punched him in the throat to rob him of his voice. Another swift hit to his temple and he collapsed. She began to drag him inside the office he’d started to exit, but I shook my head.
“We don’t have time,” I whispered, pointing ahead to the glowing green EXIT sign. “Look for the trash. Our stuff is in it.” A thought occurred to me. Say, Septimus, I sent to him. You didn’t happen to erase our records in the system too, did you?
Sorry, no, he sent back with a mental grin. That… even if I could have, I wouldn’t have. I have to ease my conscience somehow.
Your hat isn’t that white, I observed as Rebekah found the can and rummaged through it. Sure enough, her mask, goggles, wallet and other things were in it, as well as my sword, mask, and the various bits of junk from my pockets. You’re more a grey hat.
You can’t change the system by going along with it, he replied promptly. And it needs to be changed.
And letting criminals go is the way to do that, I sent back to him sarcastically. Oh well. I couldn’t be nice forever. When the flustered emotions flitted through him, I couldn’t help but laugh, though not to be cruel. I don’t care, Timmy. The only thing which matters is that I’m free.
Try not to kill anyone, he repeated as I opened the door next to the trash. My mask in place, my sword in hand, and my ally behind me, I glanced into the alley it opened up to. A hulking shape
stood in the shadows. A flick of my mind told me it was Rory and I stepped into the alley.
The big wolf man grabbed my shoulder and pulled me forward in a half-assed and rough embrace. His wide fierce grin greeted me. I smiled back as I pulled away. He glanced to Rebekah and gestured, “Come on, come on.” He’d taken the time somewhere to get dressed in clothes more appropriate for the weather, including jeans and a heavy dark trenchcoat.
“I’m coming!” she chirped, closing the door behind her. We made our way to one end of the alley where a nondescript sedan waited. As we piled in, a young kid bounced behind the wheel. Well, perhaps he was of consent age, but his body language told a much younger story. His spiked up black hair brushed the top of the car as he moved in his seat.
“This is fucking rad, yeah!” he exclaimed, grinning madly. The grin made his skinny Asian face look twice as wide. “Jailbreak!”
“Who the--” I started and Rory shushed me.
“Don’t ask,” he said. “Some kid who wanted to pull a prank on the cops for FU Night.” He shook his head as the teen pulled away from the cop shop, going much too fast for this weather. The wolf tapped him on the shoulder, “Hey, slow down, stupid. If you drive suspicious they’ll try to pull us over.”
“Yeah, let them!” the kid said and Rory swatted him on the back of the head from the other front seat. “Ow… alright, alright, gawd….” His sharp eyes narrowed, “Don’t do that again, or I’ll put the freeze on you.”
“You’re the one who made the snowman?” I asked, horrified. The kid was a meta and a relatively powerful one to give the cops that much trouble. Though his bulbous nose made him look a bit like a buffoon, his sharp eyes belied the intelligence within.
“Yeah, pretty rad, right? Damn that was fun!” He eased off the gas and settled into a more regular pace. As the car came onto the bridge, he turned in his seat and offered a hand, “Lee, Lee Blake, Yeti!”
