Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Instead of the forecasted snow, there was thick fog on the streets of Stellis. No one let it dampen their holiday mood, though, as they hurried to their New Years’ parties.

After all, tomorrow was a new decade. No one wanted to be late.

There was, of course, the public celebration downtown with the whole thing- live music performances, entertainment, food, drinks, the works. There would even be fireworks on the Stellis waterfront, and people had already been talking about how spooky they might look in the fog.

Captain Morgan wasn’t anywhere near those sorts of celebrations. Instead, tonight, he was at a New Years’ fundraiser for the city with the richest people in the country. They annually got together to pat themselves on the back and to put their heaviest and most glamorous foot forward to prepare to pat themselves on the back throughout the rest of the year. But because they all had their family heirlooms and other means of showing off, Captain Morgan was around to make sure security was in tip-top shape and that no one unknown would be coming in or out.

He entered the gala building by a side door, much less showy and photographed as the front entrance, but no less watched. He walked down the hallway with the worst lighting but was totally unremarkable. So unremarkable that it could be from any miscellaneous office building, not the grandest Gala building in the country, to a room where he could monitor all the camera feeds and other recorded material in peace.

Well, mostly in peace. The chatter of his officers and the hired staff was comforting background noise, as was the clacking of keyboards recording the latest update or a fan buzzing on someone’s desk. The fan seemed unnecessary until he realized how warm it was in the room with all the screens.

He shed his overcoat and hung it by the door. “Please let tonight be uneventful,” he muttered to himself as he crossed his arms and looked over the room, then settling his eyes on the main entrance camera. Who’s showing up this year?

A knock on the door and in came Commissioner Green. Darius couldn’t help but sigh.

“Good, you’re here.” they said, noting him and then looking across the room. “Won’t you come and mingle?”

“Not unless I’m getting a raise.” Darius answered.

“It was an order, Darius,” they said. “Come along, we’re working on the legislature to adjust the police budget. It would be good to have my best man out there with me.”

Of course they’re increasing the budget again, Darius thought as he followed Green out of the screen room. It’s not like it’s going to anyone’s salaries.

“... Darius, focus here,” Green said. They handed him a navy blue mask.

“Maybe the next increase should go to our salaries, Green, if you expect nearly everyone to work overtime.”

“No one wants to be a cop anymore, Darius. This year we have to make them proud!”

What a-

“Ah, there’s the Marins. You. Mingle. Or just stand there and look good. That’s not so hard, is it?” Green patted Darius on the arm and left him in the entry hall as they went over to a guest family.

He sighed and lifted a glass off the nearest waiter’s platter. He didn’t down it in one go, but took his time. He adjusted his mask. It's not like a masquerade theme makes my life any harder or anything.

He looked across the hall and saw someone in a red and silver gown. They wore a maroon red fox mask across the top half of their face. He didn’t recognize the mask from those registered and checked in prior to tonight.

He made his way over to her and handed her his glass as he reached for a new one.

“That’s a unique mask,” He commented as they received the glass.

“I’m a little embarrassed- I thought it would be a sort of animal-themed thing.” They gestured to his mask. “I was apparently wrong.”

“It’s not like you’ll stand out much in a room of stand-outs,” he shrugged, meaning to be comforting.

“Oh, gosh,” Darius could see the blush under the bottom of the mask. “I didn’t mean to stand out any more than anyone else.”

He nodded, then offered them his arm. They slipped their hand through it and nodded, walking with him up the stairs.

They both heard the chatter behind them and they looked behind to see the von Hagens arrive. Austin and his youngest son, Marius. The kid wasn’t even the legal drinking age yet, but he was accepting a glass from his father. It was fine. It wasn’t worth writing a ticket over, and he wouldn’t be driving anyway. The rich got away with a lot more than Darius allowed himself to get personally annoyed with.

“Are you a police officer?” Darius’s companion asked.

He looked at them. “I am.”

“You were examining the von Hagens with such scrutiny,” they commented. Then they lowered their voice and leaned toward him, pulling slightly on his arm. “You don’t think Giann’s sudden absence is anything serious, do you?”

“No, I don’t,” he answered appropriately.

They smiled up at him. “You’re good at your job, mister…”

“Captain Darius Morgan,” he told them.

“Oh, captain, huh,” they winked. “Well,” they looked ahead. “I’m Monroe.”

“Just Monroe?”

“Just Monroe.” They confirmed, nodding, still looking ahead. They entered the main ballroom and they turned to him, gesturing to toast with Darius. He met his glass to theirs. “To a new year and a new decade, Captain.”

“To a new year and a new decade,” he repeated, then sipped from his glass as she did. As he looked up, their arm left his, and when he looked down to see where they went, they weren’t anywhere to be seen. They’re definitely up to trouble. He made his way back toward the hall, but Green caught him before he could escape and let his officers know.

“Use the earpiece I left for you, Morgan,” they grumbled as they passed him.

He sighed and nodded, going to the side of the room and calling the officers that way to keep an eye out for the red fox mask person.

Darius didn’t see them again but managed to survive the rest of the evening with a few other conversations.

Finally, it was nearly time for the new year. An announcement started on the stage and from the back of the crowd, Darius watched the waiters receive empty glasses from guests.

“... and with that, see what we can accomplish this next year!” the announcer held his hand up to the screen above him, then left the stage. The lights dimmed and then went all the way out. There were a few gasps from the crowd, but then the video started to play.

This next year (like nearly every other), the money raised this evening would go to sponsor new buildings and renovations in the art district of the city where the museums and art galleries were. It played like normal, besides a few strange lines, the narrator was excited about the coming decade. The tone changed and was critical of the project. A few murmurs in the crowd.

Then, instead of proposed plans and dreamed up images of the changes to the district, it showed the narrator. They were wearing the same mask as the person Darius spoke to hours ago, but they were in a suit rather than a dress. The suit was a maroon red that matched the mask with silver accents and jewelry.

“If you aren’t dull, you followed. This project is a ridiculous use of funds and time when there are others in this city- and country- who would much better benefit from your spare change. Things will change this decade. You will return what you’ve stolen and you will pay for your crimes that our noble officers don’t even bother writing fines for, since you can pay for it then and there, disregarding those you are hurting…”

Darius hardly heard the rest of the video, moving through the crowd for the masked person. She was here somewhere. She wouldn’t get away. This was not a prank, it was serious.

He looked up at the balcony that ran around the top of the room, looking for his officers to coordinate. He locked eyes with the narrator, who smiled as she changed her mask and didn’t let him see her face.

When the lights came back on, the previously displayed vase artifact was gone. How someone could have made it on the stage and not been noticed was a question for later.

He wasn’t there in the ballroom for the rest of the evening as the hosts did damage control and did their best to smooth over the ruffled feathers of the attending, influential guests.

Darius wasn’t directly blamed for what happened, as it was quickly discovered there wasn’t much the SCPD could have done.

For the next two years, this Sylvia Rouge avoided any progress being made on who she was, but the public outside of high society loved her and what her message was. The stolen vase from the first year was returned back to the people it belonged to, but as for the pieces on display and auction for the second year, they turned up in entirely different nations and caused legal trouble between allies as the "rightful" owners demanded "their" art back. Each piece had a history of having been stolen from their original homes, and Sylvia Rouge made a point to return those things to their rightful homes and owners.

What really bothered Darius was that she would taunt him and either let herself be seen by him or overheard, but never again was she within arms reach to arrest her. Not when he was working, anyway.

Now it was August with the third New Year celebration growing closer and closer, and pressure was on for the Stellis City Police to make real progress.

Who the hell was Sylvia Rouge?

Chapter Text

One of the things Sylvia enjoyed most about living in a city so close to the ocean was the frequent breeze that would cool her office in the heat of the last Summer heat. She kept her windows wide open and would often find herself watching the curtains rippling lazily in the breeze.

It was never too early to start planning the details for her next “New Year’s Hijack”, as it was called the last two years. Unoriginal but straight to the point. She had her plan scattered out of order around her office, easily distributed or destroyed in case of discovery. Three more New Years', and her plan would be done. Hopefully with success- the old city center of Stellis no longer abandoned without much hope for a better future. Real jobs- opportunities- beside crime to provide a meal for families just trying to make ends meet. Not only that, but things would be well in motion to improve similar conditions across the country.

She hadn’t personally had to experience the life of having nothing but the clothes on her back for long. She was lucky. She was smart, and she proved it. Being taken in by the Monroe family was a miracle, and one she constantly felt pressured she had to repay.

Less so, these days. She would pay their favor back by proving them right.

The breeze shifted some papers across her desk. Sylvia set down her hand on the pile to keep it from going out of order. She sighed as she glanced at the time displayed on her computer- She should get ready.

Sylvia put away the loose papers and turned off her computer, leaving the desk’s surface empty beside the monitor and her keyboard. She rose and closed the windows, locking them and drawing the curtains, and left the office, now still and dark.

She preferred the work in her office or the Apex Den if she was feeling extroverted. The planning, the paper, the feel of the paper and pen. The confidence in her choices. The reliability of her system.

Unfortunately, she needed to be a public figure, too. As public as a criminal leader could be, anyway. Which was more to be silent and observe than rub shoulders and flirt with the rich. She did wonder what people would guess her role was. A benefactor? Bidder?

Hopefully the black suit she chose would have people’s attention sliding right over her, like seeing something they instinctively immediately forget seeing. She loved overhearing, “No, officer, I haven’t seen anyone like that!” after watching them stare at her.

Forgettable, but without her, nothing would be done.

The venue was decorated simply; it’s own charm dimmed down to direct attention toward what was on display. Despite the fact that most of the attendees had, in fact, seen the items for auction before, they all gasped and gossiped about how they’d never know where the items came from. These weren’t the ones taken in the flashy fashion of the New Year’s Hijacks. These were the ones few had seen and fewer noticed missing.

“What a shame, I don’t recognize this piece.”

What a shame, they didn’t recognize the children sitting outside hoping for a few coins or bills as anything other than a dirty nuisance.

Sylvia settled at the back of the room, watching the crowd gathering and getting settled in seats. It would be easy to pick their pockets. But it wasn’t worth it. It was more fun to have them pay extravagantly by their own will than to charge their cards past the limits and risk being caught.

“This must be a boring security assignment.”

That was something she hadn’t heard before. Impressed, she looked over to the man who stood beside her, holding a glass as he scanned the room just as she was.

“It pays just fine,” She shrugged.

He nodded, and took a sip from his glass.

He looked just as out of place as the hairs on his head. He could have been hired as security along with Sylvia, if she was indeed security. He may not have made good security, though, with how thin he was.

“Are you here to bid?” She asked.

“What else does one do at an auction?” He asked, looking over at her. He may not have made much as security, but his blue eyes were captivating in a way that could have made him a good criminal.

“Make friends with the wealthy enough to attend auctions,” She offered.

A smile teased at the corners of his mouth, but didn’t last as he nodded. He offered his hand. “Artem Wing.”

She shook his hand- she knew the name. He was a lawyer. “Here with any clients, Mister Wing?”

“No,” he sighed and shook his head, returning his attention to the front of the room. “But still here on business.” He wasn’t surprised she knew his profession, then. He must have confidence in his reputation.

“I wonder what kind of business manages to snag a lawyer like you,” Sylvia pondered aloud. “What kind of justice do you provide for them?” His reputation was exactly what made her curious.

“The kind they pay for,” he muttered, and decided then to walk away.

Sylvia was pleased with the conversation. He would be back to defend himself later. It was in his nature, according to the transcripts of his cases she’d read. It was a shame they hadn’t had his picture attached- she would have reached out sooner.

She waited for the lights to dim before she moved to watch him better- first, she wanted to note who would move their purses closer or adjust their jackets to better bring close their wallets. It happened without fail. Artem Wing didn’t move. Maybe he didn’t bring his wallet- his money, anyway. But what kind of person leaves home without their money?

He stayed put for most of the auction, until he must have recognized the book now on auction. Sylvia returned to her place in the back of the room, hands behind her back.

He returned to her side exactly as she expected. If he was her responsibility, she’d chide him for being so predictable.

“I’m not entirely sure that that item is for sale,” he said quietly.

“It is, isn’t it? It’s an auction for real items,” she caught his gaze. “Do you think they’re selling fakes?”

“I think it’s dangerous to so boldly auction off things that belong in museums.”

“They do, don’t they…” Sylvia agreed. “It’s funny. I wonder where they came from.”

It was up to him, then, to decide what would happen. Hopefully he wouldn’t concern himself with an empty threat of reporting the auction. 

He connected the threads, finally. He nodded once, slowly. He settled beside her, but this time not so concerned as he was before.

“I think the cause the funds are going to is highly deserving,” He said as the bidding ended for the book that caused his discomfort.

“Good.”

“A very just cause,” he said, and added in a whisper, “Myx Rouge.”

If she hadn’t expected him to discover the truth, this would be cause for panic.

She planned for that. Back in her office, with her papers and research.

“I’ll find you if I’m in need of your services, Mister Wing,” she told him, and left the room.

The evening was a success.

~*~

Darius hadn’t had a win in a while. He might even say he didn’t remember how it felt if he was asked.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t. Most of the time he ended up feeling at least slightly useless in his position of captain- he signed a lot of paperwork and felt cooped up in his office- the windows closed, blinds blocking out sunlight. The only evidence of life was his typing on his keyboard and the old fan that still managed to cause a small breeze throughout his office.

It was late in the day. Maybe he’d actually get to head home on time.

Not like there was anyone waiting for him. It would just be a place to rest and shower, if he was lucky, and head right back to this damn office.

But his phone rang.

He let out a deep sigh before he answered.

“Morgan.”

“Good, you’re still there.”

When am I not? He thought to himself.

“Commissioner Green,” he greeted the caller without warmth and rubbed his forehead, his elbow on the desk’s edge.

“You’re being assigned to the Hijack case.”

“The-” Darius sat up straight in his seat, the slouch immediately leaving his shoulders. “The New Years' Hijack case?”

“Is there any other that I’m not aware of?”

“No, sir,” he shook his head. “No other hijack case.”

“Good. Treat it like you won the lottery, kid,” the commissioner said. Darius didn’t even care to remark that he was barely younger than Green. “This needs to be over before December, the mayor’s tired of the state of things.”

“I’m on it, sir,” Darius answered.

“Knew you would be. I better receive an update from you before the end of the month.”

That only gave the captain a week before September.

He’d make it work.

“Will do,” he told the commissioner. “Thank you.”

“You’d better have an update or we might have to turn to some other solution, captain.”

“Understood,” Darius nodded, and put the phone back down in its cradle.

He leaned back in his seat, relishing the feeling of the win. He’d been the unofficial lead in the case anyway, he was just thrilled to finally have the authority to do something about it.

And maybe some extra budget, since he had an idea in mind for a good start toward progress.

Chapter Text

The Von Hagen family has always been one that caught Sylvia’s attention. With two handsome sons as heirs to the family monopoly company, it was a wonder they were both still single. The older son had been engaged at one point, but the engagement ended overnight in a flurry of vague but loud rumor spreading. It ended after Giann’s conspicuous return after disappearing for several years.

The truth in that situation wasn’t what sparked her attention. It was Marius, the younger son, getting control of the company instead of his older brother. And keeping it. Hopefully, the younger would be easier to convince.

He’d agreed to a meeting, no doubt hoping his office would cause intimidation. That and being late to the time he’d set for the meeting.

“Master Von Hagen will be with you shortly,” A young man, probably an assistant, emerged from the office. He was dressed almost like a butler, but usually weren’t butlers older?

Sylvia had already considered leaving after the first five minutes, to punctuate the insult of having to wait. But she could be patient when she wanted to be. And as much as she hated to admit it, she did want Marius’ attention. So she nodded and continued looking out the window over the city of Stellis from the high-rise’s view.

There were only a few things that made Sylvia unsettled. She’d never admit any sort of fear, but the heights afforded by the offices’ high-level view made her stomach uneasy. She liked looking over the city, especially from a lobby of a company she hoped to have under her own whim and control. But the height was something else entirely. She’d be much happier after the meeting, when her feet in her high heels would be once again on the pavement of the sidewalks far below.

“Myx Monroe?” the assistant again a few moments later. “He’s ready for you now.”

Sylvia turned and followed the assistant past the doors, into the spacious office. Things had changed since her visit with the Monroe patriarch just a few years ago.

Marius must have re-decorated with his own art pieces. She’d seen some displayed at Stellis University when he was a student. It was obvious he was still painting under the pseudonym “Z” but not many seemed to recognize the similarity in the styles. There were also a few family photographs and awards presented alongside them as if the achievements of a successful family were just as important as winning empty awards in competitions that were just for show.

“Ah, sorry to keep you waiting,” Marius stood behind his desk as Sylvia entered. “Thanks, Vincent.” He, of course, wasn’t sorry. Yet.

The assistant left the office and closed the tall doors behind himself.

Marius gestured to the seats in front of his desk, but they were low and would obviously have whoever sat in them look up toward Marius, however tall they were. So she stood, laying her coat over the back of one of them.

He sat.

“So, Myx Monroe, what can my company do for you?”

“I’m not worried about your company,” she shrugged.

“Hmm, yes, I would guess that’s because of how much you own in stock?” He suggested, trying not to grin as he gestured to his computer’s screen.

“No,” she rolled her eyes. She waited for Marius to shift uncomfortably.

It took less time than she expected. He was young. Green. But as much as a rich father with important monetary and business connections can teach, a criminal father figure can teach more.

“I’m not concerned with your family’s monetary success,” she explained, stepping toward the desk. “You have been impressively philanthropic in ways that actually affect change. No, I’m not here about that. I’m here about legacy, and family.”

He opened his mouth to make a suggestion, trying to regain control of the conversation, but Sylvia held up a hand.

“I’m curious if you’ve noticed something.”

“I notice a lot of things,” he tried to defend himself. He didn’t have a clue.

“Ah, yes, ever the artist,” she nodded. “Mister Von Hagen, have you noticed, whenever there’s an incident at the private homes in your neighborhood, or in museums in the city, even break-ins in competitor’s offices, nothing presumed owned by a Von Hagen goes missing?”

It was up to him to mention that one of Z ’s paintings was stolen along with a handful of other modern and Stellis-native works. Perhaps he almost viewed it as a favor, as afterward, Z’s works got heavy media coverage after the theft.

He shifted again. He wouldn’t say it this time. Fine. She could try that bait again later.

“I want you to know that things are moving quickly for the end of the year,” she said. “I like the relationship we have, but I think I want more.”

Marius was more confused.

“They’re hiding the celebration from the public, you see,” Sylvia began. She lifted a hand and examined her nails, checking that they were clean. “I’m sure you’ll receive an invitation.”

Marius considered her words. It took him a moment, but slowly, the realization dawned on him. Sylvia wasn’t exactly thrilled to have a boy like him have an idea of her true identity, but then again, it was so far in her favor. He settled back in his chair, hands folded on his lap. “Is that all?”

He didn’t look like that was all he was willing to provide. Good.

“For now.”

The simple request should have been something like a phone call. But she didn’t like conversations like this potentially recorded, at least not from her contact information as Monroe.

“I’ll reach out if I want anything else,” she shrugged and turned away, retrieving her coat from the seatback. “Thank you for your time, Mister Marius.”

~*~

With the extra budget the captain finally had access to, Darius wasted no time in making a call to the number on a card he’d had stashed away for almost three years.

Luke Pearce of Pearce Private Investigations had quickly offered his assistance on the case for Sylvia Rouge, but had been turned down as the Commissioner wasn’t interested in outside assistance.

“I have to say, captain,” Luke began as he settled into the seat opposite Darius. “I was surprised to get a call from the police.”

“Things are changing- they don’t want a third year’s celebrations ruined by some thief,” Darius shrugged, taking out the first notepad with a clean page from his desk drawer.

"I think calling her "just some thief" would be undermining yourself, sir, if you're calling for outside help," the young man said, then asked, “What kind of progress have you made?”

Darius glanced at him, then at the single folder labeled with the official reports from the past two years. “I was hoping you’d be willing to share.”

“Oh, sure!” Luke smiled, turning to open his satchel bag and pulling out what looked to be four separate files. “I’ve been keeping an eye on the case. Stuff like appearances, items known to be stolen by Rouge and their people, the histories of those items, stuff like that.”

“Right…” Darius said slowly as he opened the file on the items. “You own an antiques store, too, if I recall?” He looked up at Luke.

He nodded. “I do!”

“And has anything been stolen from your business?”

“N- Well, no, of course not,” he answered. “Private stores like mine aren’t touched by Rouge.”

“You’re sure?”

“Oh, yeah! I’m- We’ve got a shared community online,” Luke explains. “Us antiques collectors and shop owners. Only a few people have had items disappear, and get donated at someone else’s shop. Which is weird, but only private collections were affected. And we returned items once we realized they were someone else’s.” he shrugged and leaned back. “Everything ended up ok, I guess.”

Darius hummed as he returned his attention to the detailed lists of items. Then he looked over the file of appearances- which also listed sightings from civilians, guessing they might have seen someone who looked like the person in the officially released images from the announcements. “I haven’t heard… most of these.”

“I’ve got a system that alerts me of any mentions of Rouge online- especially social media.”

That’s brilliant. Why haven’t we been doing that.

“The public seem to like her. Well, some do, anyway,” the detective shrugged again. “Some refer to her like a Robin Hood character- taking from the rich to give to the poor, all that.”

“Give to the poor?”

“Oh, yeah. There’s this market for the items stolen and the funds are advertised to go directly to charities around Stellis. I’ve investigated them and they’re for real. Got to volunteer at one, actually,” Luke recalled. “It was when there was that cold snap this February- I helped hand out hats and gloves to those in need.”

“And you think Sylvia makes the decisions on where this money goes?” Darius almost bit his tongue when he realized his familiarity with the thief. He'd built a habit of seeing the criminal as a person instead of someone who thought themselves above the law for purely selfish gain.

Hopefully Luke wouldn't comment on it. Darius was a little rusty when it came to real detective work, unfortunately.

The detective shrugged. “It’s a theory.”

“Does she make appearances at these volunteer opportunities?”

“If she does, no one talks about it online.”

“Do you have any idea where she’s based?”

“Oh, w- Well,” Luke stopped himself.

So he did. Have a theory anyway. And if this theory about Sylvia directing where the money goes- to help those in need- was right, Darius had the beginnings of an idea that maybe he didn’t want Sylvia caught. He’d passed by many who needed help, especially when he went to the old city center up North. He wasn’t proud of how the region had so decisively been abandoned. He especially felt it personally as one of his own first memories was at the old mall that had been the place to be for social life and shopping when he was a kid, but he also remembered it losing business and gradually losing more and more customers, until he’d be surprised if it was still operating at all.

In fact, the more he thought about North Stellis, the more he realized that if he were the head of a criminal organization, that’s where he’d have his headquarters.

It was his responsibility to report his discoveries… But he had to uncover them, first.

He stood after closing the file open on his desk. “Well, Luke, I’d like to officially hire you for your assistance on this case.”

Luke stood, smiling. “That’s great! I’m excited to work with you!” He eagerly shook Darius’s hand.

“I’ll send you an email later today with details, if that’s alright.”

“Sure, sure,” Luke nodded. “I’ll keep an eye out for it.”

Darius hoped the kid would keep his discoveries so far to himself. It was one thing to have a theory, but it was another to prove it.

The captain left work early that night, headed north.

Chapter Text

The late afternoon light filtered through tree leaves changing color before glowing past his car’s windows and onto the dashboard and passenger seat.

Instead of having his radio on- for music or for listening to dispatch- he had turned it off. Darius knew enough that if he was right about Sylvia’s location in North Stellis, he had to stay on top of his game and carefully aware of his surroundings.

And, admittedly, it had been some time since he'd actually gotten to do real field work. He needed the least amount of distractions.

He was thankful, not for the first time, that his car wasn’t exactly obviously a Police patrol car. A few of his officers had teased about how incognito it was. It wasn’t exactly like they’d been on stakeouts with him and seen how convenient it was to have an uninteresting car to keep watch in. Then again, he hadn't had the opportunity to teach anyone in a long while.

But in North Stellis, he was more thankful for people not giving him distrusting stares from pedestrians as they passed when he stopped at crosswalks. He gave forced smiles as he nodded to mothers crossing with their children, likely coming from after school programs. If they could afford such programs.

Darius remembered how hard his own mother worked to send him to the best school she could. She was determined that he’d live a better life than she had, and she’d given so much for it. He’d been able to get her an apartment in South Stellis, near the new city center, so she could experience some finer things and nicer, safer places to walk. Before she passed, anyway.

He cleared his throat as he pulled away from a stop sign.

He didn’t exactly have an exact location on Sylvia’s whereabouts. So he tried to think like her.

It wasn’t a practice he was unfamiliar with. He’d tried several times over the years to get inside her head. He was furious how she always knew where he was, sneaking up on him and pushing very exact buttons. None of his girlfriends he’d tried to keep had stayed long enough to know him that well, and to Sylvia it felt like a game. A game she was too good at.

Finally, he pulled over to a stop in the depths of the warehouse district. Almost all of the buildings on this street and the next ones over one either side had been abandoned or didn’t have currently listed owners. Any of them would be good enough spots to set up shop.

He grunted again and shifted in his seat, almost slouching. His eyes scanned the street for movement, but the most interesting things were papers or other litter blown by the breeze. Missing pet posters were posted on street lights or on the abandoned advertisement boards. In the quiet, Darius could hear distant traffic in the remaining life of the area, a few intersections back.

After a few hours, he cursed not bringing something to eat. Or telling someone where he was.

But he was an experienced-hardened officer- Captain, even. Finally with the lead and budget to do something about this case.

He would stay a little longer. He could always try the next streets the next nights. He’d find her, he was sure.

It did take a few nights of solo stakeouts to find any buildings with activity beside nocturnal animals or kids or the unhoused. As much as he should have issued warnings, he didn’t report kids messing around or people just trying to find a dry, safe spot to rest for the night. He should have sent a message to the local department. They’d just kick these people to the next department’s area, though, and the cycle would continue. As much as he couldn’t quite relate to the struggle, he would admit to them that he could be soft about the situation.

After five nights of an unhealthy amount of takeout and shitty, cold coffee, he finally caught sight of something actually interesting.

Three people left a building through a side street wearing red bandanas around their necks, easily pulled up to disguise their faces.

Darius noted the building in his notebook.

As much as he wanted to give chase, they could just be nobody.

So he watched the building carefully. He watched as, an hour later, a light was turned on, it’s faint glow seen through broken windows and gaps in the siding.

He really should call in. Just in case he needed backup.

But he didn’t have time for that, or to come back. He needed to give an update, with real progress, and soon. He could deal with it alone. He was experienced.

He cracked the windows of his car and strained his ears to try and hear anything. Any motion, any conversation.

A brush of paper against the street startled him and he turned around in his seat to see what the sound was. He had to admit, as he sighed, that he was thrilled to be doing something for once, as stupid as it was to be startled by what was essentially a city tumbleweed.

He leaned back in his seat, glancing out his window at the side mirror and saw someone in dark clothes, and a red mask, coming up on the side of his car.

He really did know better than to open his door and get out for a fight. But he wasn’t exactly thinking clearly. He had more rust to knock off, he realized, as he was knocked out with a pinch of a needle in his neck.

~*~

Sylvia leaned against the simple wooden desk with her arms crossed against her chest. The captain was asleep, the injection site on his neck of a sedative having a bandage over it. Was this kind of sleep restful, or would he awake just as tired as he had been before the drug had been administered?

The boys had done well in tying the captain to the wooden chair that matched the desk. To her request, his calves were positioned on the outside sides of the chair, and his arms firmly tied behind his back, palms flat against the back of the chair.

She’d been watching him just as closely as ever as he had shown up the first night in her part of town. His assumption of North Stellis was correct, but the warehouse district wasn’t exactly as classy as she was typically drawn to. If he had entered the warehouse on his right that first night, however, he would have found a decent portion of her stash of goods- donations for the same people who he’d turned a blind eye to later, who reported his presence to the Fox, not knowing she already had been watching him.

Cop cars needed the open-top windows. If the captain had been able to look up to the edges of the warehouses, he would have had a chance to spot her at least once before this.

“What’s the plan, boss?” One of the boys interrupted her thoughts. “For- For when he wakes up.”

“Who says we’ll do anything?” she asked. She had half a mind to just leave Darius where he was and leave him to his own devices. But she did want to see him squirm in the chair, see if he could escape on his own, or if she would have to end up calling his precinct to come rescue him. A little bit of cat and mouse, and she was no mouse.

The boys glanced at each other in her peripheral vision.

“But…?” one boldly spoke up and gestured to the tied up captain.

Sylvia sighed and shrugged. “We’ll have a conversation like adults. Maybe you kids should head home.”

It sounded like a suggestion, but they knew better. The three boys who’d left the warehouse hours ago had returned to bring Darius inside the warehouse, but it was time for them to head home for the night.

Everyone who worked for Sylvia knew she could handle whatever tasks she delegated out herself.

Not long after they left, Darius stirred, finally waking.

Chapter Text

His neck hurt. His arms hurt, his wrists.

Darius groaned as he rolled his head, then looked up and intended to look around, but there’s not much else to look for when he saw Sylvia Rouge standing in front of him. Or maybe she was leaning on the light stained wooden desk, one of her feet placed on the seat, just between his legs.

He pulled at his legs, but quickly found them immovable, tied with dark rope. He tried his arms, grunting as his shoulders’ ache dully pangs.

“Sleep well?”

Darius didn’t have anything nice to call her.

“I’ll take that as a no,” She said. Bored.

“What do you want?”

“Geez, you don’t have to be so hostile, Darius,” she nudged his thigh with her foot before taking it off the chair and uncrossing her arms, instead placing her palms on the desk’s surface behind her. “I’m here to answer your questions.”

“So what do you want?”

“I could be less nice, mister,” she rolled her eyes. “I just want to chat.”

Darius found that hard to believe. Everyone wanted something from him. Especially Sylvia. That’s how criminals worked- let alone criminals who decided to kidnap and tie down a police captain.

But she’d piqued his curiosity. “Fine.”

“There you go,” she almost beamed at him. “Ask away!” Sylvia sat on the desk and then brought up her legs to sit criss-cross, straight-backed on the desk.

She did look at ease. Then again, she wasn’t the one tied to a chair, who wouldn’t be sore for days. It wasn’t the ideal way to be sore for days.

“I did ask. What do you want?”

She tilted her head back, her mouth in a “Ooh” shape. “I see, you want to know my end goal.”

Obviously. She was playing with him.

“What’s my track record, Darius? You know my file back to front, or at least, the original, non-Pearce influenced one.”

He scoffed. “Influenced?” It wasn’t even worth asking how she knew Luke Pearce was involved.

“He added quite a lot of information, did he not? He’s been keeping tabs on me.”

He leaned back as best he could. It was hard to show that he was trying to be unruffled when his movement range was limited.

Sylvia could easily plan farther ahead than Darius had the luxury to. He didn’t like to be reactive- any good cop wanted to extinguish sparks of problems before they grew untamable. He considered the ropes restraining him, looking at the knots and loops he could see. He flexed his arms, straining at them. They were of good quality, but then again, there was probably plenty of abandoned rope that wasn’t totally too degraded to use for this sort of purpose. He'd learned to judge rope quality with a glance when he worked security on the Stellis docks before starting in real policework.

“Do you really think I’m going to hurt you?” He asked.

“No, but you might cuff me, and then I’d act completely unprofessionally, captain,” she teased. “As much as you’re the one physically restrained, you can’t imagine what I’m thinking about seeing you like this. Or maybe you can.” She winked, and Darius rolled his eyes as he looked away.

The small light above them didn’t cast it’s visibility as far as he’d like. He was determined to think of anything other than what she implied. “You can quit the flirting.”

“You’re very much not in control of the situation, Darius.”

“Give a man something,” he muttered, pulling again at the bindings around his arms. She’d been smart to tie his hands so his palms were flat against the chair’s back.

She laughed. “Fine. Hungry?”

Of course he was, he realized. He didn’t know how long he’d been out.

“I mean, if you’re not, I can just,” she showed him the sandwich that she unwrapped. She took a bite. The moan she let out was punishing. That was almost too far.

What a woman. Beautiful. Brutal. Awful.

“I am.”

“Of course, you’ve been asleep for hours,” she said, and got up off the desk, taking the step closer to offer the sandwich.

He had no choice but to take her word for it.

The sandwich wasn’t half bad. He’d bit where she had.

“This could almost be a picnic,” She teased, watching him eat.

He scoffed. It was a funny idea, but he wouldn't admit that to her. “You’re cruel.”

“Barely,” she laughed. There was her confidence, snaking its way past his will.

He didn’t make another comment, taking another bite.

“Think about that file, Darius,” She said seriously. “What do you think I want?”

He grunted as he chewed, considering what he knew. Or at least had read and written about Sylvia.

“An endgame simply focusing attention on North Stellis’s less-fortunate population seems too low for you,” He said. “You’ve got something bigger than that.” Another bite.

“Why?”

He stopped chewing and looked up at her. That was a good question. He took the time it took to empty his mouth to consider the answer. “Why would anyone go to such lengths for such a simple goal?”

Sylvia set the sandwich on his thigh and stepped back, her hands clasped behind her back. She said thoughtfully, “I don’t think your mother would think it was too simple a goal.”

Of course she knew about his mother. That was almost insulting. He swallowed back the growl and demand for her to not mention his mother. That would just encourage her. That’s what he feared, anyway. So he thought instead about the depths of logistics she’d have to go to make sustainable, permanent change.

“It’s not simple,” He said quietly after considering the problem.

“There you go.” She seemed pleased at his realization. “Bureaucracy is ridiculously complicated.”

“You need at least one lawyer on your side.”

“Sure,” She nodded once. “But it’s more than that. I need people’s support. The only people who’ve been affected by my actions so far are people who can afford it, no?”

People's support. She already had a growing following according to Pearce.

That gave him an idea. A thread to pull.

“Why have you left Pearce’s shop alone?”

Sylvia blinked at him. That caught her off guard. There was a beat of silence as she reacted to his question, and he let it settle before he spoke again.

“He said a few antique stores have been broken into, but never his,” Darius explained. “Why’s that?”

“No particular reason.”

“Right, sure,” Darius laughed, pursuing the advantage. “You do everything with careful reasons, Sylvia. What do you know?”

~*~

Sylvia didn’t like how obvious it was to the captain that she had purposefully avoided robbing Luke of anything. No one else had even suggested that they noticed.

She knew a lot. Especially about Luke. She knew of his condition, and how much time the detective had left. It wasn’t much. In part, some of what she was doing was to help him. To show him that someone cared about those affected by companies’ reckless disregard of the people near their factories. That someone wanted to help clean up the city- not just in politics, but also the spillage into vulnerable peoples’ homes and water.

“I used to know him.”

Now it was Darius’s turn to digest a revelation. It was risky to admit.

But she needed Luke on her side. And she knew that if she got Darius to lead the detective to her location- where her real office was, that he would fold to her cause. Luke always had a soft spot for her. And he’d be useful.

“Used to?” Darius asked. “How could anyone forget y- forget someone with your name?”

Sylvia rolled her eyes. “Do you really think I can afford using my original name in my line of work?”

He tilted his head as if to gesture “That’s a good point.” But it wasn’t what he’d really meant to ask.

“Why would you tell me that?” he asked after a moment.

“If he tells you how he knows me, maybe you’ll learn why it’s such a big deal to me that I do what I can for people who can’t do it on their own,” she shrugged. “It’s unlikely, of course. He’s got his own secrets that he keeps close to his chest.” She placed her hand over her heart. Then she crossed her arms again. "And it's telling of how long it's been since you've done this, if you hadn't considered to research my history."

Maybe she overestimated Darius’s compassion and intelligence. Maybe he was too tired to properly investigate her implications, if he even picked up on them.

She took the sandwich from his lap and put it on the desk after wrapping it back up. “You get why I can’t let you keep this, right?”

He tried to shrug.

“Don’t you want things to be better, captain?” she asked, tilting her head to the side to consider him. “You of all people know how bad things are- from your own childhood to the reports of bored officers thinking they’re the solution to clean up patterns that are far above their pay grade.”

“Of course I do,” He said softly.

She wouldn’t fall for that genuine response. Not yet anyway. She should have left his past alone. But he wasn't any different than any other tool in this game she was playing.

“But I think it should be done legally.”

“That's so boring, what a cop answer. What part of “people who can afford loss” do you not understand?” Sylvia laughed. “You’re not that naive, captain. At least, I didn’t think you were. I expect more from you. Far more.”

“You’re not in a position to expect anything from me.”

She raised an eyebrow at him as she looked him up and down. “Who’s tied to the chair?”

He huffed, nodding, looking to the ground.

She had hoped this would be a more fun evening. But revealing personal matters to each other is what they’d had instead.

Maybe flirting could be personal, too.

She carefully moved to sit on his lap, making sure not to touch him with her hands, to avoid leaving prints.

He stiffened as she got comfortable. They’d been this close before, but not restrained.

“I think you’re the right man for the job, Darius,” She said quietly. She didn’t need to speak any louder when she could whisper in his ear. “You’ve already been plenty of help. I hope your meeting with the commissioner goes well. But you won’t find any prints here- not mine or anyone else who works for me. They don’t have to know before they storm the place, of course.”

He didn’t object to helping her. She’d take that for now. But he might tighten up the way he lets notes out about the case.

“I’m not the only kind of corruption in this fair city,” She whispered. “I’m not the deadly kind.”

“What about Marsden?”

That was uncalled for. Sylvia leaned back. Maybe that’s what he had wanted- some space. But it was unfair. “No one was supposed to get hurt, ever, Darius,” She said seriously, looking him in the eyes. She didn’t mind how the hurt from that death still spilled into her voice. “You know better than to imply that.” She had been furious and heartbroken to hear that someone had gotten killed in an accidental confrontation after the second New Year’s celebration. That brush with being caught had been too close, and someone had disobeyed the “guns will not be loaded” rule that had been strictly placed.

Sylvia also knew Darius was trying to stay on topic, to remain professional. It was frustratingly in character for him. And she knew he could tell how serious she was on the matter, and how it was indeed contrary to her past to purposefully get someone hurt.

She moved her hands from her knees past his neck, her forearms resting on his shoulders. “I think you know me better than you’d like to admit. And you’d like to know me even more. Unprofessionally.”

She bet on a man’s nature. She’d been pushing Darius this morning. She intended to continue.

“I really wish you wouldn’t insist on being you,” he groaned.

“Who else would you rather I be?” Sylvia smiled. “I’m not a good actor.”

“I disagree.”

“Who’d you rather me be?”

The captain didn’t answer. Instead, he surprised the criminal and closed the short distance between them, leaning forward as best he could, and kissed her.

She laughed against his lips before kissing him back. Maybe it was a distraction. At least it was a good kiss. She liked when men took the hint and initiative- or maybe just Darius.

She didn’t let the kiss last, getting up from his lap.

“Good to know you like me as I am, Captain.” She walked around to the other side of the desk and opened a drawer, taking out a small bottle and a cloth. “But you’ll be good for me and go home, won’t you?”

“I think you’re being rude.” Darius again squirmed at the restraints.

Now who was being selfish?

“Isn’t this easier than a needle in your neck?” she asked, pouring a little of the liquid on the cloth.

“I don’t like seeing it coming.”

“You saw the needle coming, you knew better.” She approached him, holding the cloth by her side. “This time you won’t feel a pinch.” She walked behind him and brushed her fingers through his hair, breaking up the dry gel that had kept his hair mostly in place. He grunted and struggled against her, but fell back to sleep quickly with the chemical deeply breathed in.

“Dream of me, Darius,” She whispered in his ear.

Chapter Text

What a headache.

Darius groaned as he sat up. He rubbed his face as he looked around- he was home.

He couldn’t remember how he got home. He doesn’t remember much of the previous day beside his time with Sylvia.

She’d seemed actually uncomfortable by some of what he said, particularly about the unfortunate casualty of one of his officers.

It just confirmed what he’d known about her.

His phone buzzed on his nightstand and he picked it up without checking the caller ID.

“Morgan?”

Shit.

“Commissioner,” he stood as he greeted the person on the other end. He’d have to hurry to get dressed and into the precinct.

“Where the hell are you?”

How much should he even say?

“On my way.”

“You’d better be.”

The commissioner hung up and Darius tossed his phone back to his bed so he could grab something least wrinkled in his closet.

He was going to need a drink after this conversation.

~*~

It was a little earlier than Sylvia tended to drink, but it was always more fun to muse over things with a drink in hand.

At least, it would help relax, ideally.

While she hadn’t been the one physically tied up, Darius wasn’t a light person to pull around an empty warehouse and back into his car. It was a wonder no one caught her as she drove his unconscious body home last night. Anyone would have assumed the police captain was dead instead of simply drugged to sleep.

Luckily, he had a garage connected to his small house, and she didn’t have to make much of a show dragging the man through his own home to his bed.

She’d taken off his coat and his boots, but the rest would be his to deal with.

It’d been tempting to do more than just his coat and boots. See what kind of body was covered with that uniform- if he had tattoos, maybe, or some scars.

Strangely enough, the gym of the police headquarters wasn’t visible from public view.

A shame.

The Apex Den was quiet in the early afternoon. Sylvia enjoyed her modest corner booth watching the exits as she worked through some files.

She’d requested the best options of what was rumored to be up for auction this year. She wasn’t really thinking about them.

Darius had his meeting with the commissioner today.

How much would he say?

Would her operation be limited? Would he tell them how she hosted him? Would her name and appearance, that they could advertise, be more than “Call with information” but become a bounty?

Regardless of how detailed he got, things were going to be harder.

Her plan revolved on many plates spinning on chopsticks, but she had her priorities.

The captain, regardless of how she may think of him, was not important enough to sacrifice even the least important detail for.

She finished the liquid in her glass and set it down carefully.

She’d been too personal.

The music on the stage started up after sound checks. It was some lively jazz- the Apex Den was on the more sophisticated end of these sorts of clubs.

Sylvia closed the files and watched the couples on dates smile at each other as the musicians became more confident in the stagelight. The saxophonist wasn’t half-bad.

“Myx Monroe?”

One of the employees stood at the edge of the table.

“There’s someone here for you.”

“What kind of someone?”

“Someone who’s been watching you- but I don’t think he-” The young man gestured to the bar.

“I’ll be damned,” Sylvia whispered to herself. “Fine,” she said, louder.

“Are you sure? Isn’t he-”

“He’s handsome, isn’t he?”

“I-” The employee glanced at the table, uncertain how to answer the awkward question.

“Don’t worry about it,” she laughed. Poor boy wasn’t sure if there was a right answer. “If he’s so keen on coming to say hello, there’s no reason why not.”

“But-”

“I’ve made my mind,” Sylvia interrupted. “Let’s leave it up to him, shall we?”

He bowed slightly and left, so she returned her attention to the band on the stage, wrapping up their second number.

They were on their fourth when the man came to her table.

How would he introduce himself?

“I asked what you were drinking- Want another?” he asked.

“If it’s on your tab,” She smiled up at him. “Care to join me?”

He didn’t hesitate. He slid into the booth and handed her the drink.

“Confident, aren’t you, stranger?” she asked.

He looked comfortable in the jeans and leather jacket, a black t-shirt underneath. His hair looked free of gel- maybe he’d just washed it.

He shot her a glance over the rim of his glass as he took a sip, and smiled when he lowered it from his lips. “It’s a little bravado, if I’m honest, ma’am.”

Sylvia hummed thoughtfully. It was impressive. He knew who she was, and he had to know what kind of people came here. There were always eyes on her- and there would be more with someone like him sitting in her booth.

She lifted her hand casually. “Monroe. Rosa Monroe.” Would he remember how she first introduced herself, back when they first met?

He shook it, grinning. “Alright, Rosa. Call me Cyrus.”

She laughed. So the Police Captain had a go-to pseudonym.

“How long did that one take you?” She asked quietly, looking out across the main room. She caught a few people watching, and some looked away as her gaze landed on them.

“Oh, when I first used it?” He shifted, growing more comfortable. “Ages. But it’s been aged.”

“Something to get you out of trouble as a kid, I bet,” She guessed.

He shrugged. “It’s just a smooth name, isn’t it?”

Sylvia wasn’t going to grace that with a response.

She knew she had her own kind of bravado, leaving the files in easy reaching distance of the captain. They were closed, of course, and simply had the year on the top of the outside. But all he’d have to do was reach across her lap if he was curious.

She was betting against herself. She wanted to see if he’d try it.

“Would you believe me if I said I didn’t expect to see anyone I knew here?” He asked after a moment, speaking over the music.

“Not a bit,” she answered. That was amusing. As if he didn’t know.

Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe he just wanted to try out a new bar after his day.

His meeting.

The way he was looking at her, she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. How it had gone. She wanted to take him somewhere private and ask him.

But they couldn’t afford such a scandal- or at least, she couldn’t.

Sylvia was far more vulnerable here than he was. This was her Den. Her place. And here was the enemy, sitting in her booth, drinking with her, easily within reach of spoiling her progress. Would anyone believe her if she said she hadn’t invited him?

Should she move away from him? Would that be too obvious?

He looked so good in this lighting. He’d looked good last night.

How would he react, if she moved? Farther or closer?

This was a delicate balance.

It was exhilarating.

What would be even better would be to move closer.

She saw a lieutenant of one her peers- well, not quite peers- she was the youngest of those responsible for any of the organized crime in the city.

She smiled and moved closer to the captain, thrilled as he moved to rest his arm on her shoulders.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” He whispered behind his glass before taking a sip.

“Not a bit,” She answered, smiling at the lieutenant. He moved to face them squarely and then lifted his phone and dialed presumably his boss before walking away.

Sylvia laughed to herself as she watched, shifting closer against Cyrus’s side. She’d not taken a risk like this for far too long.

It wasn’t easy to even begin to get close and vulnerable with someone, especially in a romantic sense. This wasn’t, of course, romance. This was using her own rival to her benefit to piss someone else off. And he wasn’t flinching.

That was the best part.

Of course, it would be hard to directly hit a police captain like Darius. He didn’t have much of a personal life. He didn’t seem to have many friends to threaten. And he had thick skin from his years as an underestimated officer and captain of the law.

“This is fun, isn’t it?”

Cyrus scoffed. “It must be to you.”

“Very. I’ve not risked this much in ages.”

He looked down at her.

It was a little more personal than she’d meant to say.

But they were just strangers today. They’d just met, and she was just some person in a bar who’d invited a handsome stranger into her haven.

Nothing had to mean anything.

Anyone who knew who they were knew it meant much more than nothing. It was dangerous.

“Do you trust me?” She asked him. “I mean really. Do you?”

He took another drink from his glass before answering. She didn’t blame him.

~*~

Sylvia was having far too much fun with this.

Then again, he also hadn’t put so much on the line like she’d pulled him into here, tonight, in the window of time before things could go to absolute shit.

“I do.”

It was true.

Darius didn’t have to agree with what she was doing- officially, anyway. She’d never done anyone any physical harm on purpose. She could have done a lot to rough him up last night, but instead, she just let him grow sore from the restraints.

And he, at least personally, agreed with her mission.

He’d so lose his job if he let that slip.

He had a rough enough time with his meeting with the commissioner. The mayor had also been brought into the meeting and Darius had had to choose his words very carefully.

They already had a distaste and disdain for Sylvia- so it was easy to let them exaggerate her work last night even with his limited retellling. They’d demanded a plan of action by the end of the next week to locate her actual headquarters, and already started the process to increase activity in North Stellis.

It was going to be hard on the area. Already judged for their circumstances, he began to hope her plan was going to reach its conclusion soon.

“Really?”

“Don’t doubt me, Sy- Rosa,” He looked down at her again.

If they were anyone else, they both knew they wouldn’t have their history. Maybe she wouldn’t have let him in the booth. Maybe he wouldn’t have noticed her.

Who’s he kidding. Of course he would have noticed her. Who couldn’t?

But it’s a nice idea, to think about. Two strangers, just Rosa and Cyrus. Listening to jazz in a corner booth in a busy, dark club. People who trusted each other, even if they didn’t know each other.

It was a nice idea.

It wasn’t like Darius was worried anyone would report his cozying-up to a strange woman- no one else knew what she looked like, not like him, not the way he sees her.

But she was putting a lot on the line to even invite him in to the booth.

They were just Rosa and Cyrus.

If only, maybe. It’s a nice dream.

Sylvia would have hell to pay, he had no doubt. She’d have to explain what she thought she was doing to people Darius only had question mark profile pictures of on abandoned cork boards- abandoned for the lucrative and flashy catch that was bothering the higher society of Stellis. Nobody else, but they were the victims who had the most platform and highest volume.

He mused it over as they listened to the music.

Was she hoping that maybe they could just be nobody? That he was a blue-collar worker, and she was just waiting for the right position to fit with her graduate degree.

Maybe it’s just something a lonely, early middle-aged man thinks about when someone as beautiful and intelligent as her was choosing to risk so much just to enjoy some music against his side.

Did things to his ego, anyway.

Chapter Text

Sylvia appreciated the weather’s consideration of her mood.

After a wonderfully warm Autumn week, with sunshine and cozy winds, it finally began to rain.

Her operation had settled into a new location away from where she wasn’t sure if Darius had given up or perhaps gotten close enough.

She’d had a few days before things really were thrown out of order. Whatever he’d told his boss was enough to set them off into action. It was a nuisance.

It had been a few weeks since the run in with the captain at the Apex Den. Things were quiet on all fronts.

Things were tense.

The move was risky, but it was a risk Sylvia had to take. She put trust in the other bosses to not immediately flip on her. It was strange that they hadn’t. Yet.

She wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to her office.

She refrained her whole shady career from keeping too many personal effects in her office. She had people to protect. The family that had taken her in after her parents disappeared, mostly.

What ten-year-old her would say if she saw her older reflection.

She’d certainly made a name for herself- not her own. Although as far as any legality was concerned, she was more Sylvia now than Rosa Monroe. And Pearce, although that had never been official. They felt like family.

Pearce.

It stung for Darius to suggest the connection. But how could she not have a soft spot for the boy who showed her there was still goodness in a world that had seemed to hate her after it stole her parents?

Luke was getting bolder. When she saw him, she’d scold him for poking at things he couldn’t see the whole of. He’d taught her that.

What would he say?

She wouldn’t change her mind for Darius, but would old feelings come back and make her fall to Luke’s-

What would he say? How would he react?

Sylvia would have to rely on his sense of justice. In the moral sense. He had become a private investigator.

His cases were largely related to Themis Law Firm. She couldn’t help but keep an eye on him. The connection was how she’d discovered Artem Wing, a lawyer with a real sense of justice.

Maybe that’s why Luke got along with him.

She took one last look around the office before she began wiping down the surfaces of her prints. There had already been a team who went over the whole building, of course, but she wanted to be certain. So for something to give her peace, she had to do it herself.

It was an isolating world she’d cornered herself into. That’s what made Darius so alluring- the rivalry relationship they’d developed was the closest thing she had to a dating life.

But even then, every time she took too much interest, she risked discovery or her reputation. Having real friends was hard, as an understatement. The closest thing she had to a friend was the Svartan who sat in on meetings of the council she’d fought for a spot on. And she had an idea he was more interested in her as a psychologist digging for information and answers than a friend.

Sometimes it was tempting to tell him everything, the psychiatrist. Maybe he’d find the answer she’d been looking for- what would satisfy her.

Like everyone else in the universe asked.

There was a creak of the floor in the hallway that interrupted her cleaning musings.

“I said I’ll be out when I’m ready-”

“Kora?”

She almost dropped the rag in her hand. She straightened and stared at the wall. She hadn’t heard that name in eight years.

Was she even Kora anymore? That ten year old self looked back at her, asking her why she was scared to face the person who’s voice had just as much shock in it as she felt coursing through her veins as adrenaline.

Sylvia folded the rag as she turned to face him.

Luke Pearce.

He took a step back when he saw her.

The seconds that passed before she spoke felt like a true eternity.

“Luke-”

Just as she barely finished his name, he was across the room and tightly wrapping his arms around her in an embrace.

That was unexpected.

But… also exactly how he would react.

She couldn’t hug him back. As much as her heart longed to return the gesture, she forced herself to act as she would now- as Sylvia.

He released her after a moment.

“I- I can’t believe it!” he said, his hands on her upper arms. His dazed affection glowing through his grin. “I can’t believe it!” He repeated in a hushed voice.

“You didn’t think I was dead, did you?” That’s not what she’d meant to let him believe.

“No, I got your postcards- but-” he shook his head before squeezing her arms and then letting his hands drop, then bringing them together in front of him to nervously crack his knuckles. “Yanno, I figured, anyone could have sent them.”

“Why would just anyone send postcards to you?”

“I- I don’t know,” He shrugged. “But, gosh, you’re here. What are you doing here?” He looked around the office and then at the rag in her hands, folded carefully. His eyes flicked back up to hers and her stomach sunk at the growing realization unfolding in his mind.

If she’d thought the moment when she’d first faced him was eternity, this was something longer.

What was she doing? Seeking his approval?

That wouldn’t do.

So she turned and stepped away, breaking the unbearable moment.

“Surprised it took you so long to come find me,” she said casually.

“I- wanted to be sure.”

Of course you did.

“So you knew?”

“I wanted to be sure,” He repeated, but he was forcing his own version of confidence. Leaving behind the child-like reaction of seeing his childhood friend.

This was a man she could face. So she turned again, faced him again.

“And what do you know?”

This was the moment of truth. Surely, if he was sure before confronting her, he would be sure in his decision to call for her arrest and detain her himself, or to step closer and join her.

“I know that what you’re doing is making a difference,” He said.

So he was going the long way. Fine.

“I know that you’re only trying to do what’s right, regardless of the law. I know that I’ve admired your boldness from that first night, and that you have proven again and again that you are not just a criminal. You are still a person I can recognize,” he explained. “I know you’ve kept tabs on me, and I didn’t understand until I was sure it was you, Kora. I’ve been wanting to prove myself to you, regardless of who you were. And now I’m glad I made the effort.”

Your conclusion, idiot. You know I hate waiting for closure… even if I made you wait for it.

“Do you have a place for me?”

Of course. I counted on it.

“I might,” She said slowly. “But can I trust you?”

It felt insulting to even ask.

But it had been eight years since they’d spoken. Her postcards were simply her way of making sure he knew she was alive, and he couldn’t communicate back to her.

She could only confirm so much from watching his cases and work as a private investigator, and his work with the National Security Bureau. She’d been barred from accessing any NSB information when she herself took her undercover work far more seriously than they desired, which left her with questions about the project he’d been working on- all she knew was that they had sent him on a mission that he returned from with a chronic and slowly fatal illness.

That sort of thing can bring out a new sense of desperation in someone.

Was this desperation one of his motivators? To have meant something to the world- to either join or take her down?

“If you don’t anymore, I’ll prove myself to you,” his voice was low but gentle. “I missed you.”

That would be enough for now. It was cruel in a way Darius hadn’t yet had to experience.

“You understand that I have to be careful?” Sylvia asked, careful in her own tone. “I’m so far removed from who I was- it’s an honor you even see the old me in who I am today. I feel so far from her.”

“She’d be proud of you.”

Luke was too easy to like.

She hated that she realized she’d have to take advantage of that.

She hated more that he would be willing to do anything for her- she knew that.

“Are you?”

She had to know.

“Beyond expression,” He smiled in the easy admittance.

Maybe there was something to be said about the saying “distance makes the heart grow fonder.” At least she knew he was the same as when they were kids, or that she may as well be taken down by someone she used to know.

Chapter Text

Of course there would be consequences to her getting too close to Darius that night. It had been weighing on her shoulders and constant in the back of her mind. The look the lieutenant gave her, the whispers she heard from her own people.

Finally, the consequences were speaking in their monotone.

Sylvia had always thought this sort of “council” of criminal leaders was lame. Especially when she disagreed with their chosen crimes. Drug trafficking, gambling facilitation, politicians on speed-dial. That didn’t cover everything, of course. The beautiful city of Stellis was a festering ground under the oblivious’ feet. No one knew to look closely.

She’d earned her place at the table. After her Monroe sponsors had mysterious circumstances around their disappearances, she’d stepped up and dirtied her reputation just to keep things from falling apart. She needed the authority her adopted name granted her.

Everyone knew she’d earned her place.

They just didn’t understand, until now, that her intentions were grander than distractions. Now they were threatened.

So when they asked “What do you think you’re doing?”, she had to laugh. In her head, anyway.

“What do you think I’m doing?” She asked instead.

The sass was not appreciated.

She was at a table with five other leaders. It was not good to be sitting at the end of the table, where she was. It was like being exiled to the kids’ end of the table during family gatherings. This was not the kind of family gathering she was a fan of, though. All of these meetings could be emails. Sylvia chose to take the opportunity of having everyone’s opportunity, ignoring the Adjudicator’s gaze from his place in the corner of the room.

There was a fireplace behind her, the only noise in the room came from the crackling of the wood. Dim lamps on the walls kept the small room’s aura oppressive and shadowed, light flickering on the red patterned wallpaper and dark wood paneling.

Each of the leaders had their own way of dealing with the uncomfortable situation.

Seagull simply watched her from her position at the farthest seat. She didn’t speak much, rather preferring to be almost servient to the men at the table. It was her way of staying afloat and out of trouble.

Sylvia couldn’t relate. None of these people were her friends, and she was here to be herself- behind the Fox mask, anyway.

“Monroe…” Turtle said slowly, his hands folded together on the table’s surface. His voice was raspy from the cigars he smoked when he didn’t have a cigarette in his hand. While the six of them were mostly equals, he liked to think he was the one with the most power. He threatened to shut down anyone else’s operations whenever he felt bored by them. “You do your family a disgrace.”

As if you knew them , she thought. She refrained from rolling her eyes.

“I think I do my family proud,” she responded. “Aren’t you, in particular, proud of me? Or are you afraid I’ll be the one that Green likes to spill secrets to instead?”

“They’re not going to suddenly start listening to a young woman,” he rolled his eyes.

So much for respect.

“Are you sure? They’ve had at least two affairs that I know of, and I was barely looking. Don’t you think a young woman like me can enchant someone like them?” She spoke casually. This wasn’t her strongest play, but she liked their underestimation of her. “The captain has always been someone you’ve tried to corrupt, Turtle, and he’s just always thrown you off. Are you… jealous?”

It was a little more provoking than she needed right now, but it made the Turtle lean back.

“You really should share more of your plan with us, little one,” Eel commented, leaning forward with unusual boldness. He wrung his hands as he smiled, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“You know why I don’t share it,” Sylvia said.

“So you can change your mind?” the Shark asked.

She laughed. “So you can’t foil me.”

“We’d never think to do such a thing,” Wolf insisted.

She couldn’t help but glare at him, the Wolf. For being a wolf, he’d probably fit more with a name like hers- the Fox- or perhaps the Snake. He was a master at crafting lies and lures alike. Out of all the people at this table, he was the one who Sylvia hated the most.

She needed to change the lighting. Of the room, and the mood.

What did each of them value? Power, money, and their lives. Each of them would throw the other out of the way if it meant saving their own skin, their reputations. While things had tightened for everyone who did business in North Stellis, overall, they’d all experienced more room to flourish without the public’s attention.

And they were here to vote. On her future with or without them. As much as she hated or simply personally disapproved of their work, she needed their support for a little longer.

“I think each of you have experienced benefits as I hog the spotlight,” she said finally. “I’m the one they hate the most, the one who’s got the attention and the resources of the S-C-P-D chasing them. I know my… choices have given us all some grief, and for any inconvenience… I apologize. But ignoring my turn at wielding public attention… you’d all be remiss to admit that I haven’t also helped each of you.”

She held their attention for long enough. Now to assess if they would vote for her.

Luckily, one can vote for themselves. That’s why the Adjudicator was here; to break the tie, if there was one.

Turtle looked at each of those at the table, then nodded to himself. “Let’s vote.”

They agreed.

“All to rid ourselves of the burden Fox has placed on our group?” He raised his own hand, and Seagull and Shark did as well.

Eel usually voted for Sylvia. He had a barely-secret obsession with her. It was a disappointment for both Sylvia and the Turtle that the Wolf was going to vote for her. She’d rather he abstain.

But that wasn’t allowed.

So when the Turtle asked who wanted to keep her in, he and the Eel raised their hands with her.

They all looked to the Adjudicator, who was still sitting in his corner, watching.

“Doctor?” Turtle asked. “Do you have any thoughts?”

The silver-haired man stood and walked toward the table, taking a seat in the empty chair at the other end of the table.

It was either going to be a speech or a simple vote.

Let it just be a vote…

Sylvia didn’t need his reasons. She just needed to know whether she’d gone too far.

He took his time. As though he hadn’t been considering the whole situation the whole time.

It took most of her self-control to stay calm.

Had it been too far?

He slowly raised his hand and spoke. “I vote that Sylvia face her own consequences.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eel asked.

“That I vote with her.”

What an ominous way to put it.

Turtle sighed, but there was no point in voting again. If anything, he’d lose votes. “Very well.” He looked toward Sylvia at the opposite end of the table. “Monroe… You’re getting close to a dangerous line.”

“And I’ve not crossed it yet,” She smiled back.

The meeting was then adjourned, and Seagull and Shark left quickly. Sylvia assumed there was a shipment they expected.

Eel lingered and gave Sylvia a strained smile before he left. Turtle didn’t look at her as he left. He never did. He was followed closely by the Adjudicator.

Which left the Wolf.

Even a fox should not be left alone with a wolf.

“I hope you don’t think I owe you any favors,” she told him, looking up at him as he stood.

“Of course not,” he grinned. It wasn’t good natured. “But one of these days, I might call on you for one anyway.”

“And what might you ask for?”

“Something I’m certain we’ll both enjoy,” he said.

It made her skin crawl.

He took pleasure in making her uncomfortable. He didn’t need anything else from her then, and left the room.

After a moment, with once again the only sound in the room being the fire behind her, she leaned forward and let her forehead rest on the table, groaning.

~*~

If Sylvia was anything in his life, she was a bad omen.

Darius hadn’t seen her in the weeks following their risky “We’re strangers” play at the Apex Den. He hadn’t gotten any trouble from it, but the Commissioner had given him a weird look in their follow-up meeting.

He trusted Sylvia. But would she play with that? She hadn’t said it back.

He could just be a pawn in her game.

Better hers than whatever the mayor and the “elites” of the city had in mind.

He hoped, to himself, that she had a good warning of what they planned in case she managed to start a third heist. Did she have anyone who was working the security of the event?

He could try and tell her.

But was it a good idea?

Didn’t he like his job? Didn’t he help people?

All this thinking about her was its own trouble. He needed a cigarette.

He got up from his desk and left his office, the door unlocked. There was no reason to lock it- he’d be back in a moment, and it was a police station- there would be no one dumb enough to snoop around.

Darius finally felt like he was able to exhale once he’d stepped outside into the mid-October chill, a breeze coming down the street as he lit his cigarette.

“Captain?”

Now what.

He turned to see Luke Pearce coming from the building.

“Hi, sorry to bother you, I was looking for you inside and they said you’d be out here.”

Darius nodded. “Needed a breather. Do you mind if I…?” he gestured with the hand that held his cigarette.

Luke shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

“Thanks,” Darius said, and took a drag from his cigarette. “Did you need something?” he asked after exhaling the smoke.

“Yeah- I wanted to update you on something,” Luke nodded. “But it can wait until you’re done.”

“It’s gonna be a couple minutes.”

Luke shrugged again and sat on the bench.

After a moment, as if to add insult to injury for Darius’s desire for a break, the fire alarm started to go off.

“The hell…?” Darius asked. He really didn’t want to put out his cigarette yet. It was probably a false alarm.

He faced the building, though, just in case.

People began running out- one of them stopped at Darius.

“S-sir! Your office! It’s on fire!”

You’ve gotta be kidding me.

He put out the cigarette and moved toward the building, but those who were exiting insisted he stayed out.

“It’s gotten really big,” someone told him. “It started in your office but it’s getting everywhere.”

“That’s what fire does…” he grumbled. “Has anyone called the fire department?”

“They’re on their way.”

So everyone stayed outside and simply waited.

It was agonizing. Not in regards to losing life- everyone was safe. But more in a way that Darius realized most if not all of his research on Sylvia would be gone. His computer would be toast- charred, over-toasted at that.

Once the fire was finally put out, he brought Luke in with the firefighters as they went inside to take a look at the damage.

“This is gonna make things pretty tricky for you, huh,” one of them asked him. “Head of the hunt on for the Fox lady, huh.”

Darius glanced at Luke, who was carefully walking over debris into his office. “Yep.”

“And you’re sure you didn’t leave anything that could cause this while you took your break?”

“I’m sure.” As if he wasn’t careful.

“Captain,” Luke’s voice came from inside the office.

“Careful, Luke,” Darius said, as he made his way toward the detective.

His office barely had anything untouched.

“This was a deliberate attack,” Luke pointed out.

“Yeah, but by who? And how? No one’s been in my office except me all day.”

“I did stop inside for just a minute when I was looking for you,” Luke said, then raised a hand as he straightened from his bent position. “I mean, of course, I didn’t do this!”

“I know you didn’t,” Darius sighed. “More than half of this was your work.”

“Yeah…”

What was that tone… Darius squinted at the detective. There was something there. Of course. The connection between them was obvious- Luke had found Sylvia, and he couldn’t say no to someone like her. Not if anything Sylvia had told him about knowing him was true. Darius could barely say no to her, and they didn’t have history like she’d implied.

“Kid,” Darius started in a low, quiet voice. “You’ve got to get a good lie ready, because you’re a shit liar to me.”

“Wh- What do- What do you mean?” Luke asked, trying to look innocent with his hands up and shoulders back. “I told you, I couldn’t have started this.”

“Tell someone who’ll believe you.”

The look Darius gave him was luckily enough for the kid to simply nod. They both cleared their throats and looked away.

“Everything okay in there?”

“If you mean our safety, sure,” Darius answered the firefighter. He gave a final look to Luke and then carefully touched his desk- it was burnt, but only warm to the touch. “See if you can find anything,” he told Luke, and began to carefully poke at what he could find on his desk.

Every paper was burnt to a crispy, disintegrating mess.

“I think this is all that survived,” Luke said.

He turned to find him holding a picture of Sylvia from that first Hijack- in her suit when she’d been narrating the video about upcoming change.

“How poetic,” Darius muttered, taking the picture.

Luke tried to offer an explanation, but the captain held up his hand.

“Really, kid, save it.”

“I think we really should all focus on how thankfully no one was hurt,” Darius repeated the thought for the third time.

The mayor and commissioner didn’t care for that line.

“We lost all our information on the Fox!” the mayor shouted. He could certainly get heated.

Darius sighed. This meeting had already gone on far too long- it started off with a sarcastic “good job” from his bosses and went awfully from there.

“Some of it we can get back from cloud storage,” Darius reminded them. “But we did lose… a good portion of what we had. No one got hurt, though, and I really-”

“Darius, would you shut up about that? No one cares,” Green interrupted. They glanced at the mayor and cleared their throat. “I mean, of course we care, but you aren’t focusing on the issue here. We promised progress on the Fox and taking her down before she can make us look like idiots on New Year’s. How are we supposed to do that if we have no information?”

“We’re not starting at zero, sir,” Darius said.

“We still expect her apprehended before New Year’s, captain,” the mayor folded his hands smugly across his stomach as he leaned back in his chair behind his desk.

“That’s-”

“If you say you’re not starting at zero, it should be possible, shouldn’t it?” he asked. “So I expect you to get to it. Now.”

Darius didn’t have the chance to soak in his own amazement at the man’s outrageous demand, Green tugging on his elbow.

They left the office and he took pleasure in his strides being longer than Green’s so they’d have to walk faster to keep up.

“Captain,” Green grunted. “We’ve really got to put an end to this.”

“You think I’ve been screwing around this whole time?” Darius asked, one and a half steps down the staircase before turning to face the commissioner. He was just barely still taller. “I’ve been trying .”

“Didn’t seem like you were trying when you had your arm around her.”

“When did I ever get so close to her?”

“You didn’t recognize her?”

“How could I? She’s always worn a mask. You know that.”

Green frowned. “What about when she kidnapped you?”

“Do kidnappers generally have no mask when intending to leave victims alive?”

That shut Green up.

If he wasn’t so angry, he would have laughed.

“Is that all? Because as both you and the Mayor seem to agree, I’ve got a lot of work to do in two months, and I only made the progress I did because I had two years and that kid’s work. That was burned too, you know.”

“... That’s all,” Green nodded.

Just when Sylvia was getting on his good side, she had to be behind this fire. As much as he liked her mission, it was against the law, and he was tired of her games. This was enough.