From Room 505 to the End of the Causeway and Beyond, Tuesday Afternoon/Evening

[thatsamilkshake]

"I'm gonna kill her," a pacing Francine announced. No, no, she wasn't. She'd have to be able to get her hands on Katchoo to kill her, and if she managed that, she'd... probably be doing other things. NOT DIRTY. Probably.

"I'll be fine, sit tight, I'll call, my ass. It's been a day."

Merlin	"We'll just go get her," Merlin said, trying to be the voice of reason when the badgerface was out in full force.
Francine	"How, by following the trail of breadcrumbs she left?" Which... was not actually Francine shooting down the idea.
Katchoo	How about the trail -- so to speak -- of Francine's phone ringing right about now, with a number that wasn't Katchoo's?
Francine	Well, Francine would certainly be pouncing on that at the speed of hope. At least until she saw the number. Sigh. "Hello?"
Katchoo	"Francie, it's me," Katchoo said into the phone, as quietly as she could and still be heard -- over the line, at least. "I just wanted to let you know I'm all right."
Francine	"Katchoo!" Francine held the phone to her face like she planned to surgically implant it. "What happened? Where are you? Are you really okay?"
Katchoo	"Yeah." No, that wasn't actually a random gale-force wind, just the sound of Katchoo exhaling a heavy sigh. "Listen. I can't talk long. Is Merlin there with you?"
Merlin	"Is that her?" Merlin asked, leaning in to listen on the call. Like the polite lad he was. "Katchoo?"
Francine	"That would be a yes," Francine said helpfully.
Katchoo	The complete lack of verbal-keysmashy Katchoo-style commentary on his politeness probably said something about the situation. "Yeah, it's me." It was them. Couldn't be too clear about these things. "I can't tell you where I am, sorry. But I'm okay." For now. "Listen, both of you, stay where you are, okay? No crazy rescue missions. I mean it." She was a little panicky, and actually thought that would work.
Francine	"Rescue you from what?" Yeah, Francine would just be skipping the NO part of that sentence. "Why can't you say where you are?"
Katchoo	"Not safe for you to know. You two hear me? Stay the hell where you are. I'll call again when I can, promise." And right there'd be where the line went dead as Katchoo cut the connection.
Francine	".............MKLDJSGJLDSGKJDHSKDJSGHDJKHSGDJKHGUIFYF!"
Merlin	Merlin was almost certain those weren't words. At all. "...we're going after her."
Francine	"Well, I sure as hell am." And that was Francine grabbing her purse and heading for the door. Because she totally knew how to follow the trail of breadcrumbs Katchoo didn't leave.

***

The Parking-Lot End of the Causeway

Francine	Breadcrumbs, not so much, but as they made their way to the causeway, Francine had looked up the phone number Katchoo's call came in from. "I've got the address," she said, after several minutes of poking at the tiny phone internets web browser on her cell-phone. "It's a motel. She probably won't still be there, but it's a start. We can get a cab to take us there."
Merlin	"Perhaps we ought to bring Arthur with?" Merlin suggested, looking around nervously.
Francine	".......Oh." Francine running on sheer worry and fume was a sight to behold, but she did tend to get a little....single-minded. "Um. That could be an idea, yeah."
Merlin	"We'll find her," Merlin said, taking her hand.
Francine	"I know." Francine gave him a brief, worried kiss before pulling her hand away to open her phone again. "I just don't know what we'll find when we do." She scrolled to the number for the closest taxi company. "You want to call Arthur while I call the cab?"
Merlin	"I'll try texting him again," Merlin said, poking at his phone in a way that made him seem so very technologically advanced. Really.
Francine	Francine nodded and waited for the cab dispatcher to pick up. "Hi, we need a cab at the Fandom Island Caus---"
Samantha Weis	Two footfalls from behind a parked van and the phone was snatched out of her hand. One *CLICK* and the hand that wasn't holding her phone had something metal and cold pressed point-blank against Francine's head. "Sorry about that," the woman who'd appeared out of nowhere said into the phone. "We won't be needing that taxi after all. Have a nice day."
Francine	"Wha--" Francine started to say, but then *CLICK* and... yeah. She'd be standing so still you could serve tea off her head.
Merlin	Merlin glanced up mid sending his text--(KAchoo in trouble. Goinge to finde Her. AtGUNNBY11)--just in time to see that because there was such a thing as dramatic timing. ...and have you seen his ears? "Francine!" He turned his focus on the gun. "Bærnett."
Samantha Weis	Two hostages for the price of one, and it was so convenient when they stood still. It did things like make it easier for Samantha to pocket Francine's phone, which was about as long as it took for her to feel the gun heating up in her hand. "What the hell?" Before it could burn her too badly, or more importantly explode right there, she flung it away. It skidded, spinning, across the pavement. Not that this meant she was unarmed. She had a much bigger weapon at her disposal.
Francine	After a second of frozen shock, Francine tried to scramble away from the sandy-haired woman, but she grabbed Francine's shirt like a snake striking, neckline ripping slightly before there were fingers digging into her arm instead of holding cloth. Francine's eyes weren't focused on the woman holding on to her, though. They were focused on Merlin -- and the woman suddenly looming behind him. Over him, slightly taller than Merlin and half again as wide.
Tambi Baker	With a fist about the size of Francine's face, which was coming down harder and faster on the back of Merlin's head than anything Francine would ever have seen.
Merlin	Which was very--OW. Merlin went down as graceless as he did everything. Like a bony sack of potatoes, that boy.
Samantha	Samantha nodded briefly at Tambi, with no further comment aside from a brief suspicious glower at the bony sack of potatoes unconscious boy. Her hand hurt, dammit. Still keeping a firm grip on Francine's arm -- and reasonably confident that having Tambi right there was enough of a threat even without the gun -- she retrieved the cell phone from her pocket and flipped through Francine's contacts until she found the right phone number. With a brief, pointed smirk at Francine, Samantha punched the dial button and held the phone to her ear.
Katchoo	In the crappy motel room where Katchoo was holed up, her phone's ringtone was way too damn loud, and she scrambled to pick it up as soon as she saw the caller ID. "Francie, I told you not to --" "Hello," replied the voice on the other end, and it definitely wasn't Francine. It sounded familiar, but she couldn't place it just yet. "Who is this? Where's Francine?"
Samantha	The gun had not exploded, but it had cooled down; Tambi retrieved it and put it in Samantha's outstretched hand. "Ah, Miss Choovanski." Samantha raised the barrel of the gun to Francine's throat again. "I'd recognize that hoarse little voice anywhere. I'm afraid Miss Peters is unable to reach the phone right now. Perhaps you'd like to talk to me; we have so much to catch up on, don't you think?"
Katchoo	It clicked into place there, and Katchoo was somewhat sorry it had. "Samantha? What the hell is going on here? What have you done with Francine? Let me talk to her!" "I thought we had a deal, Miss Choovanski." That deadly calm voice was a basic part of the Parker Girl repertoire. "The deal was, you disappear forever . . . we don't kill you." "I swear to God, Samantha, if you hurt her, I'll kill you!"
Samantha	Hysterical threats were always so amusing. "And yet," Samantha went on imperturbably, "here we are once again . . ." "Don't play games with me! Let me talk to Francine!" "Mrs. Parker would like to talk to you," Samantha said. "You promised me and Emma this wasn't going to happen! You said if we went away everything would be okay!" "Unfortunately, someone turned you in to Mrs. Parker. The policeman you got fired in Baltimore last week didn't think it was funny," Samantha said. "Making enemies with someone who can access your record is not a smart move, Miss Choovanski." Silence on the other end of the line, then a quiet, "Oh, God." "Mrs. Parker just wants to talk to you," Samantha reiterated, taking far too much pleasure in sounding like she was trying to explain things to a small child. "That's all. I'll be there to help explain things. Trust me."
Francine	Francine couldn't say whether it was the bravest thing she'd ever done or the stupidest, and she wasn't stopping to consider the question, she just yelled into the phone, "Katchoo, don't do it! Get the police! Get Arthur - they've got Merlin too!"
Samantha	A staticky burst of unmistakable swearing came from Katchoo's end of the line. "Your girlfriend's not too bright, is she?" That answered the question of Samantha's opinion on the matter, in case anyone cared what she thought. "But conscious, which is more than I can say for your friend with the ears. Maybe you'd rather I just take care of them right now." She raised her voice to be heard over the protests on the other end of the line. "Your choices are simple, Miss Choovanski. You either agree to meet with us, or you can listen to me blow your girlfriend's chubby little brains all over the causeway."
Francine	The other woman, blonde ponytail swinging as she bent down, had just hoisted Merlin over her shoulder like he didn't even weigh as much as a sack of potatoes. When she looked up at Francine, face impassive, there was ... something. Buzzing at the back of her memory, but she couldn't concentrate on what when she heard what Samantha was saying. "Don't listen to her, Katchoo!" It wasn't that she didn't want to be rescued, that she didn't want Merlin safe. It was the terrifying, utterly certain certainty -- like she knew her name and her birthday and the shape of the mark on both their breasts -- that if Katchoo walked into a room with these people by herself, she would never walk out again.
Samantha	"SHUT UP!" Samantha yelled -- it was supposed to be a simple pickup. She hadn't bargained on a mysteriously overheating gun or the friend being so mouthy.
	Katchoo dropped onto the edge of the creaky motel bed and covered her face with her free hand. "All right! I'll do it! Whatever you want, just please, don't hurt them!" "Good," came Samantha's cold reply; she signaled Tambi to start hauling the boy toward the van. "You know Mrs. Parker's usual hotel here. Come to the penthouse suite as soon as possible or you'll never see these two alive again." "Let me talk to Francine," Katchoo said one more time, all but screaming, dangerously close to a hysterical breakdown. "I need to talk to --" *click* The dialtone wouldn't tell Katchoo a damned thing.

***

Darcy Parker's Penthouse Suite, a Baltimore Hotel, Later Tuesday Night

Bambi Baker	The woman across from Francine looked exactly like the woman who'd picked up Merlin like he was stuffed with styrofoam beads -- except she wasn't, because the other one had carried him into this hotel suite, dumped him in a chair, shot another unreadable glare at Francine as Samantha tied her up, and stalked out. Then this one walked in from the other room to join Samantha, like deja vu minus the jacket. In a tank top, though, you could see what Francine could only guess might be hiding on the other woman's arm: a tattoo the size of Francine's hand. A tattoo in the shape of -- oh go on. Take a guess.
Francine	Both of them looked to Francine like what you might get if you crossed Katchoo with a running-back from UT and then exposed the baby to whatever the heck made Jen Walters turn green when she got mad -- not that either of the women were green, but Francine was mostly babbling in her head to stop from freaking out over the fact that Merlin was slumped unconscious in a chair beside her and they were both tied up and Twin Titan Number Two over here was reading Guns and Ammo and HAD A FREAKING LILY ON HER ARM and if Francine didn't say something soon, she'd explode. "Who are we waiting for? Mrs. Parker?" That's what Samantha had said into the phone. "Who's Mrs. Parker?"
Bambi Baker	Bambi had no interest in pointless chatter. The article on explosive rounds was far more fascinating. She didn't say anything in response to Francine's questions, just flipped the page and kept on reading. Oh, and being her hulking (but not green) intimidating self, but she didn't need to concentrate on that.
Francine	"You can't keep us here like this, you know. It's illegal." Just in case she didn't know that. But also to distract her while Francine put out a foot and tried to reach Merlin's leg to nudge at him with her toe.
Merlin	Yes, because people were terribly worried about illegality here. Merlin made a face, attempting to bring his hand up to rub his head. Why on earth did that hurt so much? It would hit him--Ha!--in a moment.
Bambi	Bambi was so worried about illegality. Really. You could tell from the way her facial expression didn't so much as twitch a muscle, and she just flipped to the next page in the magazine. All right, so she also flicked an appraising glance Merlin's way and started to reach for the short rubber blackjack on the couch cushion beside her.
Francine	Crap! And also oh thank God, Merlin was awake, but crap! Uuuuh, distract her. Yes. "I hope you know the squirrels probably saw us and they're back at the radio station telling everybody right now." Oh please, let the squirrels have seen them. Francine would take back every word she'd ever growled about pervy, flea-infested bushy-tailed jerkfaces.
Merlin	He blinked, taking in the fact that he was tied up and--"Francine? What happened?" No matter now, he needed to get them out of here! He'd notice Francine was talking to someone eventually. Really. Looking down at the ropes holding Francine, he focused to make them slowly seem to start unraveling.
Francine	Distractdistractdistraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaact... And of course not notice what Merlin was up to or the fact that she might not want to call attention to herself at this point. "There's been a terrible mistake and this nice lady is gonna let us go now?" Not even a glance from the Platinum Peak. ...Fine, she could play that way if she had to. "You bleach your hair, don't you."
Bambi	Yeah, the only response that was going to get from Bambi was a dirty look to end all dirty looks. The kind of dirty look where you got no saving throw, followed by a very pointed glance at the white streak in Francine's hair. As for the ropes, now she'd be putting down the magazine and stalking toward Merlin with the blackjack like it wasn't the first time she'd done it.
Francine	"...It's natural." Yes, Francine, get defensive about that and not the fact that-- Oh, you just noticed it. Sorry, carry on. "Don't you hit him!"
Bambi	The tied-up kidnappee in the chair did not get to call the shots here, thank you very much. Those were the rules. Bambi knew the rules. Bambi was also stalking over to do exactly what Francine said not to. The unraveling ropes thing was a hassle, okay?
Merlin	Person! Other person in the room! Merlin looked away from the ropes, eyes flashing bright in a completely unnatural way as he looked for something to throw at her.
Bambi	Her sister had seen that flash before, at the edge of the island, warned them on the phone. Whatever the hell was wrong with that kid, that was the sign it was about to get wronger, and she didn't give a damn how impossible it was supposed to be. She pulled her hand back to whack him a good one with the blackjack.
Francine	"Don't!" Francine shouted at her, because yes, absolutely, that would work.
Bambi	Bambi shot the girl a 'seriously?' look, then gave her a cold, scary smile. "Sure," she said, and tossed the blackjack towards the couch. Then quicker than her size would let you believe she could move, she wrapped one huge hand around Merlin's throat and squeezed.
Merlin	That was enough to startle him out of what he'd been attempting to do there. Gasping desperately for air, he couldn't manage to find focus to break out of this. Had to remember the mantra. Maybe when he could breathe?
Francine	"Merlin!" Because yes, that would help too. As would Francine's struggles against the slightly-loosened ropes. Actually those might, if she struggled long enough.
Darcy Parker	"Bambi, stop playing with your food. If he's giving you trouble, knock him out and be done with it." So saying, Darcy Parker entered the room, all of her attention apparently on the wet bar. It would be an error to assume that was actually the case. "Samantha, fix me a drink."
Samantha	"Ma'am." The sandy-haired woman in the suit moved to the wet-bar.
Bambi	Bambi, meanwhile, gave the girl in the chair another dry smile and moved her fingers on the boyfriend's throat, finding just the right nerves to... there.
Merlin	Which wasn't the most fun for Merlin, really. As his eyes rolled back and he went limp. Next time he was just exploding everyone, damn it.
Francine	Francine stared over at him, eyes wide. Pleaselethimbebreathingpleaselethimbebreathing
Darcy	"That's taken care of," Darcy said with some satisfaction. "Men really don't contribute much to the discussion, do they?" She walked over to Francine, and carefully circled her, studying her from all angles. "In case it's missed your attention, I'm Mrs. Parker. Darcy Parker." She reached out one poppy-red nail to turn Francine's chin to face her. "And you're Katina's flavor of the month." One side of her lips went up in what was not really a smile. "Healthy girl, aren't you?"
Francine	And Francine had thought Bambi was creepy. Gyaaah. She'd say the woman was gorgeous if her face wasn't so hard and cold you could probably sharpen a knife on it. And yet as much as she wanted to shrink down in her chair, the small angry stripey toothy part of her wanted to bite off those fingers. The badger was winning. "You're in big trouble, lady. This is kidnapping." Her eyes flicked as far towards Merlin as they could with Mrs. Parker holding her chin. "And assault!" It had better just be assault. Pleaselethimbebreathing.
Darcy	"Is it really? So sorry, Miss Peters," Darcy said. She took her glass from Samantha with a, "Thank you, sweetheart," and took a healthy sip, then carefully placed the glass in Francine's lap. The open-handed slap she delivered to Francine's face wasn't quite as careful, but the ring on her finger and the sheer force probably made up for that.
Merlin	Merlin was breathing again, no thanks to Bambi. Shallow and in pain as he did so. He tried very hard to open his eyes and focus on what was happening, but wasn't finding it very high on the list of things he could do at the moment. So, limp and trying to gather his wits was the plan.
Francine	The force of the slap hit Francine on time-delay, where she could see it coming, saw it going as her head snapped back, but it was only after the initial indignant why would someone hit me? second faded that she felt the pain.
Darcy	Darcy probably didn't even seem angry, from an outsider's point of view. Her employees could have given their opinions, but they weren't being asked. "Tell me, Miss Peters. Did Katina ever tell you about the money she stole from me?" Darcy asked, retrieving her drink, and taking a sip.
Francine	Francine looked up at the woman through tangled hair, still breathing hard. "Katchoo wouldn't do something like that. She doesn't care about money."
Darcy	"Not now she doesn't. She's not paying for Emma Glass's hospice bills any longer," Darcy said, drier than her martini. Her eyes narrowed, studying Francine. "You do know about dear Emma. Don't you?"
Francine	Francine felt stupider than usual - than ever when she had to say "Who?" Even if, the second after she said it, she knew who. She just hadn't known the name.
Darcy	"You really don't know." Darcy took immense satisfaction in saying that. "Well, well. Emma was one of my girls. The same way Katina was one of my girls." She smiled lazily at Francine. "The way she still is. I don't let go of what's mine. Not my money. Not my people." She shrugged. "Except when they die of AIDS. Some debts aren't worth collecting after that."
Francine	Oh, God. Hospice bills. And Katchoo with a face like somebody took an eraser and rubbed all the color from her skin, and she's been sick a long time and ...allegations regarding prostitution, drugs, extortion and that's just off the top of my head... Francine swallowed bile and focused on the important part. "Katchoo is not yours." Because that was the important part, not the fact that she was tied up and at least one of the people in the room had a gun and another could probably kill them with her eyelashes. Yes.
Darcy	Bambi might even know a way to kill someone by breathing on them wrong. It still left Darcy Parker as the deadliest person in the room. "Don't make the mistake of thinking that just because you and the skinny sack of bones over there are both still alive that that can't change at any moment, little girl." Darcy let that sink in a moment, and said, "I mark everything I own. So there's no mistake." She held out one ankle, showing off her lily tattoo. "She still has my mark on her, therefore--" She leaned closer. "She. Is. Mine."
Francine	Francine stared at the flower, wishing now, just for a moment, that she was as dumb as everyone thought she was, slow enough not to put it together. The one on Bambi's arm, the one on Katchoo's breast, the one-- "You can't own people." You can belong to them, but you can't own them.
Darcy	"Of course you can. When they owe you, and know they owe you-- loyalty is its own collar." Darcy slowly sucked one olive off her toothpick, eyes on Francine, and smirked. "Let me tell you a little fairy tale, Snow White. About a girl who went to Los Angeles, as young girls do... for whatever reason. And she didn't want to starve to death under an overpass. Because she had dreams, but no plans."
Francine	"Katchoo didn't--" Katchoo didn't have an aunt in Cleveland. Of course she didn't. Why on earth had Francine thought the lying started in Fandom? But as soon as she asked herself the question, she knew that lie had been for her. So she wouldn't worry. Because that worked. Francine wanted to close her eyes, but couldn't quite break away from the woman's gaze.
Darcy	"'Didn't' -- what?" Darcy mocked. "I wouldn't be here if she hadn't, Miss Peters." A sip of the martini, a moment to contemplate that. "So Emma brought her to my attention. And I gave her everything she wanted. Pretty clothes, a place to stay, steak instead of garbage-- and she was appropriately grateful for the attention I lavished on her. And she did the jobs I gave her, and did them well." Darcy raised one finger. "Until the day she disappeared with her lover, $850,000 of my money, and no forwarding address." Her face chilled past granite into glacier intensity. "And maybe she didn't think enough of you to share it, but doesn't change how much she owes me.
Francine	"She was fifteen." Fuck glaciers. Try setting you on fire with Francine's brain. "If you're looking for the award for child molester of the year, sorry. Somebody already got there first."
Darcy	A backhanded slap this time, even harder, putting some shoulder into it, without putting down the martini. In a hard, quiet whisper, Darcy Parker said, "Do not raise your voice to me, Miss Peters." Even more softly, close enough for her hair to fall into Francine's face. "You have no idea how little your life is worth to me."
Francine	This time the ring split her lip; Francine tasted blood before she felt it start to drip down her chin. She stared back into almond-shaped eyes that were way too close to her own, her head ringing.
Darcy	"Now then," Darcy said, tapping her toothpick with the remaining olive against the martini glass, and pausing to drip alcohol over Francine's cut lip. "Supposing Miss Choovanski did take the money, my money. And left you and the scarecrow here for me. What then, hmm?" She paused, eyes dilated as she studied the blood dripping off Francine's mouth. "I think you two would owe me a lot of money. I think you'd belong to me, just like Katina." She blinked, and a momentary look of startlement crossed her impassive features, then she broke into a lovely smile as she dragged Francine's neckline a little lower to expose the lily brand. "Or maybe you already do!"
Francine	Mouth stinging from the vodka in her cut, Francine followed Darcy's gaze down. "No."
Darcy	Darcy was still laughing, and she patted Francine's cheek, wiping some of the blood off her lip with her thumb. "Did Katina do that to you? Make you mine? Just like I made her mine? I didn't think she had it in her." She smiled wide, and then carefully licked the blood off her thumb. "That's almost like she handed me... a gift."
Francine	If she were dumber, she'd spit in Darcy's face. If she were smarter, she'd keep her damned mouth shut. Somewhere in between, Francine opened her mouth and just spat words. "I did it." Sort of. "It doesn't mean I'm yours, you crazy bitch. It means I'm hers."
Darcy	Darcy's hand came down across Francine's mouth again, fingers wrapping around her jaw as tightly as possible as she whispered, "Sweetheart, if I were you, I'd shut the fuck up." She leaned in more closely, smiling again. "You're loyal. I like that! Loyalty's better than love." Her eyes glittered, watching Francine. "But you do realize you're Shakespeare's cliché, don't you?" She loosened her fingers and patted Francine's cheek. "You have one act in you. Two, at the most." She tilted her head and said softly, "Oh, but what a fine act you are."
Francine	Francine didn't know what that meant. Francine didn't care what that meant. For once being made to feel stupid didn't hurt because every bit of energy she had was going to the effort of flipping back and forth between terror for Merlin and herself and You Hurt Katchoo, You Can Die In A Fire, Bitch. "Katchoo's got loyalty and love. What do you have? Money and people you pay to pretend?"
Darcy	"Money, power, control. Fear and respect, which trump loyalty and love." Darcy pointed a finger at Francine's head, then slowly turned it to point it at Merlin's head, cocking her thumb like a gun. "And the two of you." Bang. "And pretty soon, Katina as well." She blew imaginary smoke off her finger.

[OOC: Pre-played with the amazing and amazingly patient thismaskiwear, bigdamndestiny, and blonde_canary. That Francine and Merlin got a call and left the island is fine for broadcast; everything else is out of squirrel range. OOC is made of love.]