Foundling pt 2 The undistinguished middle-aged woman scuttled along beside Special Agent Lenore Baxter, eyes wide with apprehensive curiosity. She was inside the Agency's headquarters, actually inside, with all the freaks - er, talents. 'Aunty' Janet was tough, she'd lived with the threat of danger all her life, grown up witnessing just about every atrocity one living being could inflict on another but never before had she felt so... vulnerable.
"Don't worry," the clean-cut young man on her other side gave her a friendly smile. "You're probably safer here than anywhere."
Janet's lips thinned into a rigid line of disapproval and John – that was how he'd introduced himself earlier – raised a placating hand.
"I'm not reading your mind, honest. You just look… concerned."
Lenore chuckled.
"You should've seen me during my first few days here. I was jumping out of my skin all over the place and I'd been psychologically assessed as being able to cope with talents!"
The older woman relaxed fractionally and graced the younger with a small smile.
"I'm sorry, Lenore. I don't want to seem hostile, I just feel out of my depth here."
"Understandable." Green eyes were serious. "But you're really in no danger, and no one is going to pry."
The trio continued along the corridor in silence for a few more moments then Janet cleared her throat.
"Lenore, when we spoke earlier you said Sandy was still unconscious? That's not good, is it? It's been weeks…"
The agent nodded.
"The doctors aren't sure why, there's no physical cause, no brain trauma; she's completely healed as far as they can tell."
"We've had 'paths – empaths and telepaths – try to make contact with her," John's voice was sad, "It's like she's hiding."
"What happened to her was horrific." Janet mused. "It's no wonder the poor little cow doesn't want to wake up." She shrugged. "Well, thanks for letting me visit, anyway."
Lenore nodded, then gestured to the smiling brunette who'd emerged from a set of wide, glass doors.
"Ah. Janet this is Holly. She's been looking after Sandy."
"Pleased to meet you, Janet." The woman held out her hand confidently and the madame took it, immediately feeling at ease with the newcomer. "Come through, please."Janet looked into the face of the young woman in the hospital bed.
"There's no scars." she whispered, frowning.
Holly gently stroked her hand over Sandy's silvered, honey-blonde hair; hair that was almost long enough now to not stand up in spikes.
"The surgeons re-set the bones then a course of speed-heal took care of the wounds. The hospital did a reasonable job repairing her face but we've got much better facilities here."
"Is that what she's supposed to look like?" Janet touched the backs of her fingers to a smooth, olive-skinned cheek.
"Near as we can tell from her memories." Holly said. "Though memories can be subjective, and without any images to work from…"
"She's very pretty." Janet smiled. "What colour are her eyes?"
"Hazel." Holly smiled in return. "Would you like some time alone with her?"
"Can I? That'd be lovely, thanks."
"Just buzz if you need anything." Holly gathered up Lenore and John and left Janet alone in the small cubicle with the woman she'd found half-dead near a canal. The madame pulled a chair closer to the bed, settled herself then gently clasped the woman's hand, careful not to disturb the IV feed.
"Why are you still asleep, love?" Janet's whisper was scratchy with self-consciousness. "You're safe now. Canly can't get you here." She squeezed unresponsive fingers. "What about your baby, love? She needs her mum. Come on, wake up, Sandy then we – they – can help you find her." Janet waited, not really expecting a reaction but still hopeful. Sandy didn't stir, there was no twitch of her fingers, no flutter of eyelids. Janet smiled ruefully to herself – honestly, what was she expecting? This wasn't one of those cheesy medical dramas Sophia was hooked on. Unable to think of anything else to say, the fixer sat in awkward silence for a while longer, then sighed audibly and stood up.
"I'm going to go, now, love," she bent down and brushed a kiss over a cool forehead, "I'd like to come back and see you again. See how you're doing." She squeezed the woman's hand briefly and smiled. "Though I have to admit it's kind of creepy being here, knowing I'm surrounded by talents. Oh!" Janet blinked, then lowered her voice. "Sorry, I forgot you're one yourself. No matter." she gave Sandy's hand another pat then padded quietly out of the cubicle.
Holly was waiting for her.
"How'd it go?"
Janet shook her head.
"No response, though I'd hoped…"
"You never know, your presence could've helped." Holly's smile was encouraging. "Would you like to visit her again?"
"I would, yes." The older woman huffed a sigh. "Probably stupid but I feel a kind of responsibility for Sandy."
"Not stupid." the medic touched her fingers to Janet's wrist. "Evidence of a caring nature."
Janet snorted indelicately.
"Evidence of an addle-headed old woman, more like."
Holly laughed aloud, the light, happy sound bringing an involuntary smile to Janet's lips.
"Well, you're entitled to your opinion of course…" she grinned down at her, "You're off to see Devon now?" Janet nodded, quietly apprehensive all of a sudden. "He's looking forward to it." Holly reassured her. "I think he wants to thank you."
"He does?" the woman's apprehension melted away. "I was worried about him."
The medic regarded the fixer with large, soft eyes.
"You worry about a lot of people, don't you?"
"'m not called 'Aunty' Janet for nothing, you know!"
Holly laughed again, then nodded towards the main doors of the infirmary.
"John and Lenore are waiting for you."
"Right. Thanks." Janet started towards the entrance, then stopped, reaching into the pocket of her jacket. "Almost forgot…" she turned back to the medic, depositing a small plastic bag in her hand. "Some of Sandy's hair. It'd all been hacked off – I went back and saved some." Her brow wrinkled. "Not sure why… It's all clean, now."
Holly eyed the packet, noting the length of the honey-coloured hank.
"From her memories we know Sandy had very long hair – waist-length. It was something she was proud of."
Janet shrugged.
"She might want it, she might not. Nice to meet you, Holly." She lifted her hand in farewell and walked out of the infirmary.Agency people certainly knew how to live…
John and Lenore had escorted her from the infirmary, up several storeys to this eatery. Janet glanced around the posh restaurant before picking up the menu to scrutinize what was on offer, an action that did nothing at all to allay her nervousness. Lenore tilted her head slightly, as if she was listening to something, then smiled at Janet.
"Devon's on his way now."
"Right." Janet straightened in the comfortable chair and clasped her hands in front of her on the table, consciously circumventing the tendency to fuss with her clothes when she was tense.
There was no chance of mistaking Devon for anyone else, that copper mane was as distinctive as she remembered.
"Janet. Hi." the young man was sauntering very casually towards her but the wide grin splitting his face was anything but indifferent.
"Hello, yourself." Janet stood and surprisingly found herself being hugged. "You're doing all right then?"
"Fuck, yes."
"You're looking well." She held him at arms length, appraising the changes in the battered waif that'd landed on her doorstep. He was still thin but there was meat on his bones now and a healthy glow to his skin. "You're happy?"
"Yep." The grin was almost blinding this time.
"I'm glad it worked out, Devon."
"I wanted to thank you for handing me over." He held out a small gift bag. "Wasn't sure what to get. Hope this is okay."
Janet's eyes widened as she carefully opened the small box inside.
"Oh…"
"Lenore said you collected crystal things, so I thought…"
The light was caught and reflected by the smooth facets cut into the butterfly's stylised wings and the petals of the tiny flower it perched on.
"Devon, it's beautiful! Thank you!"
The boy smirked happily.
"Glad you like it." He jerked his head towards their chairs. "Shall we eat? The food here is fucking brilliant."The food was good and Janet savoured every mouthful. It'd be worth coming in to see Sandy, and Devon, again just so she could eat here! Sophia would like it as well… Janet tucked away for later consideration the idea of bringing her companion along next time. Might not be a problem, these Agency types seemed reasonable…
Lenore and John had stayed to eat as well though they left the bulk of the conversation to Janet and Devon. It wasn't just physical changes the madam could detect in her young 'find' either. Devon was considerably more open and friendly than at their first meeting, though not above changing the subject if there was something he didn't feel inclined to respond to. That he was happy here went without saying, his contentment shone out of him like… like a new light-bulb. He seemed to have developed a social conscious as well – though to be fair it might always have been there, she hadn't known him that well after all - scowling as Janet explained about Sandy and what had happened to her and her daughter.
"That's not fucking right, stealing her kid. We should get her back."
"Wait right there." Lenore was frowning. "'We'?"
"Agency." Devon was still scowling. "That's what we do, right? Uphold the good – justice for fucking all."
"You're talking about kidnap!"
"They fucking kidnapped her first!"
Lenore pursed her lips and tried another tack.
"Do you know who's got Winnie? Do you know who the Canlys are?"
He shrugged.
"Know of them – "
Lenore leant forward, voice lowered to an almost-hiss.
"Then you'll understand you don't mess with them. Ray Canly in particular is a ruthless prick, if you piss him off you're as good as dead."
Devon smirked.
"What? You're fucking scared of him?"
"Yes I am." Lenore was serious. She inclined her head towards Janet, who was nodding in agreement. "Anyone with half a brain knows the Canlys are dangerous."
The aggravating smirk widened.
"What if they never know who lifted the kid?"
"What?"
"Oh come on, don't tell me that with the fucking range of experience and talent here we couldn't put together a discreet, effective team to do the job?"
Lenore blinked, then frowned again.
"We could. But that's beside the point!" she added at Devon's triumphant, wolfish grin. "Canly is the child's legal guardian. Legal, Devon – that has to be a consideration."
"Well think about this," Devon was grave now. "Knowing what the Canlys are, could you leave that kid in their care?"
Janet watched the exchange with shadowed eyes, caught between admiration for Devon's ideals and unease at the potential consequences.
"Uh, perhaps I shouldn't be hearing this?"
The TK started, then grimaced.
"Yeah, sorry, Janet. The less you know the less can be traced back to you."
"Not that anything's been decided yet." Lenore interjected darkly. Devon merely lifted an eyebrow then conveniently ignored the comment, turning back to the madame with a smug grin.
"It's been good seeing you again, Janet." he pushed his empty plate away from him. "I'd better be going. Come and visit again, yeah?"
"Love to." She regarded her own empty plate. "I should be going as well…"
John stood up with a ready smile.
"Please, allow me to show you out…?"John noted with pleasure that a good deal of Janet's unease seemed to have disappeared by the time they'd reached the foyer of the Agency building. A normal's coming to understand that they weren't in any danger from the Agency and it's staff always felt like a victory to him.
Janet smiled up into his good-natured face and thanked him for his time.
"My pleasure," the 'path's grin was unfeigned. "Feel free to visit again, Janet."
He watched the madame exit the building, seeing her safely across the busy road, before throwing a cheerful wave to the discreet security personnel and heading back upstairs.
John liked Aunty Janet: she was kind-hearted yet practical and nobody's fool. He wasn't deceived into thinking she was all sweetness and light though. John didn't doubt that if necessary, Janet could be as ruthlessly cold-hearted as any of the villains out there. The difference was she cared for things, people, beyond herself and she would fight to protect what she cared for, no matter the cost. The 'path smiled to himself; Lenore would probably think he was being absurdly idealistic but after meeting the madame he believed that Janet could be one of the few, genuine forces for good in the big, bad world outside the Agency building. It would be beneficial to have her onside.
John's smile faltered as his thoughts turned to the unconscious girl in the infirmary. Sandy had been here for several weeks but today was the first time he'd seen her. That wasn't surprising, really, not with a talent that was only effective against conscious subjects, but now that he had he half-wished it could've been sooner.
Why this was so John couldn't quite fathom...
There was nothing pressing waiting for him, work-wise, nothing that couldn't wait for a wee while anyway, so on the spur of the moment John decided to pop home and see his wife."Hiya, Cookie," he squatted down, the easier to scratch between the ears of the black Labrador who'd happily greeted him at the door. "Where's your mum?" Cookie, tail wagging hard enough to almost unbalance him, padded off towards the bathroom. The dog wuffled, nosing open the door, and a low and lilting female voice chuckled richly.
"Thank you, Cookie. Yes I know he's here."
Grinning broadly, John followed the dog into the small room. The pale woman standing at the sink dropped the cleaning cloth she was holding and turned to him, her eyes briefly scanning the area before focusing on his face.
She crossed the few paces separating them, slipping into John's embrace with a blissful sigh.
*Not busy then?*
*Not for the moment.* Profoundly happy, John breathed in the loved scent of his wife. Gracie snuggled close and for a few moments they stood together in contented *silence*, simply enjoying being with each other. Gracie pulled her head back a little, smiling softly as she looked up into John's face: at this distance the 'tunnel vision' that severely hampered her eyesight wasn't so much of a problem.
*How long can you stay?* she asked.
*An hour or so.* Her irises appeared almost green at the moment, John noted, reflecting the colour of her shirt. The colour of Gracie's eyes changed from moment to moment depending on the light, or what she was wearing. It'd been one of the first things he'd noticed about her; that - and the distinctive lack of pigmentation in her hair and skin combined with Afro-Jamaican features - had been, and still was, completely fascinating.
Gracie tilted her head to one side as she caressed the line of her husband's jaw.
*Janet's an interesting woman.*
John wasn't surprised by this comment. Gracie was psionic, her talent an odd mixture of low-powered, unfocused precog and something that had been loosely described as 'empathic psychometry'; she could read people through their contact with others. Face to face with someone she felt nothing at all, but if that person had been in contact with someone else Gracie could pick up impressions of them from the intermediary. And the closer she was emotionally to the go-between the stronger the impressions she got.
The albino frowned.
*Who's the other woman?* she drew in a shuddering breath, her changeable eyes brimming with tears. *Such pain…*
John quickly enfolded his wife in warmth and comfort, physically mirroring the 'pathic action by pulling her in close to him again.
*That was Sandy. Remember, the battered girl Janet found?*
*… yes… *
Gracie stiffened in his arms momentarily then relaxed.
*I want to meet her.* she murmured.
*Why?*
*Because,* there was secretive smile on her full, ivory-coloured lips, *if she and her daughter are going to be part of our lives I think I ought to…*Wilma de Winter eyed the fervent young TK in front of her.
"You're proposing a kidnap."
Devon shook his head firmly.
"A rescue."
Greying eyebrows quirked upwards.
"Why should I approve the action?"
Devon snarled.
"Apart from the fucking danger that kid's in, Sandy's a talent, she's one of us and we're supposed to fucking look after our own!"
Wilma's lips twitched.
"Good. Just checking you were serious."
The TK scowled.
"Don't fuck with me, Wombat, this is important."
"I agree." the section-head was all business again. "It's going to be dangerous, we'll need a thorough reccy before we can proceed. I'll get on to that."
Devon smirked – he'd guessed de Winter would be more open to the idea of something not quite legal than Lenore was, coming as she did from a military background rather than the Met.
"Any suggestions who'd be suitable for the job?"
Wilma frowned in thought.
"There's bound to be a security system in place – Tyler could handle that. We'll also need someone, a 'path, who can keep the child quiet and a TK so this can be dealt with from a distance." She half-smiled at him. "You'll be volunteering for that?"
"Too fucking right." Devon grinned.
"Good." Wilma nodded again. "Ideally we'll want to do this so they don't know how it was done. No clues, nothing that could indicate talents were involved. Failing that we'll need a legal back-up that proves the story that Winnie was illegally 'adopted' by Ray Canly, that her birth certificate is a forgery."
The TK's grin was positively feral now.
"We can do this."
"Yes," Wilma smirked. "I believe we can…"
© 2004 September 17th Lutra
Darkside