Nothing to Write Home About: Bad Habit

I'm all I wanna be
A walking study in demonology
- Hole, Celebrity Skin

Shane had a distinct memory. In this line of work, and her previous one before that, the success was in the details.

Still, she was slightly taken aback by the outburst. Careful, she rubbed at her wrists and focused in the room, past the two women blocking the doorway to the flabbergasted one in the back.

Her eyes narrowed, then widened slightly, and she found herself curling her mouth into a sheepish smile.

"Right... Bianca. Hey."

The room settled into an awkward silence, as she gave a small twirl of her fingers.

"You know her?!" said Maggie Stone, a little louder than Shane would have expected from such a small women.

"Don't you remember?" Bianca sputtered, eyes red-rimmed, but still as fucking gorgeous as she had been a couple months ago. "She was the hairdresser for that interview I did for that Mogul Syndicate."

"What is a hairdresser doing here?" Lena asked, and Shane pressed her mouth into a line, glancing behind her apprehensively.

"I'd love to explain that, but right now..." She motioned toward the doorway. "Mind if I come in first?"

"What are you- how did you-" Bianca was frazzled and confused, and Shane could only shrug in response, rubbing fingers through her hair. How the hell was she going to explain this?

"Uhh... all right. Yeah – that was... kinda like a temp job?"

"Shane." Shane's head jerked, and she noticed with some relief, Marina stepping into the room, wiping palms on her pants, eyebrow arching questioningly. "Sydney?"

"Yeah, she's um-"

A well-placed shove cut her off, as Shane lurched forward, nearly taking Lena with her, stumbling into the flat, right before her partner and an unconscious man nearly fell in behind her.

Sydney's glare was murder. "Having fun chatting?"

"They wouldn't let me in!"

"Who's that?!" Maggie stammered.

"Oh my goodness."

"Help?"

Ignoring the guffaws, Shane nodded, reaching down to grab hold of the vendor's wrists, pulling back with a grimace, nearly tripping on her own feet.

"FUCK – you picked a heavy one."

Sydney shot her another glare, kicking the door closed behind her. "I didn't pick him, Anna did."

"What are you doing?!" Marina burst, pushing through the spectators to kneel beside him. "I thought we were going to wait-"

"We took a chance," Shane explained, wiping at her mouth with her sleeve. "Patched into his device – the drop's happening tonight, as scheduled."

"They're going to do something," Sydney added. "We're running out of time."

"Okay, STOP!" Glancing up, she got caught in the glare of one Bianca Montgomery, standing over the three of them like she was ready to commit murder. "What the hell is going on?! Who the hell are you?! And why is the CANDY guy on my floor?!"

Okay...

Shane quirked an eyebrow at Sydney, who offered a grimace in response.

"These are colleagues," Marina explained, rising to her haunches. "They can be trusted."

"Sydney Bristow," Sydney said breathlessly, holding out her hand. Bianca stared at it like it was a roach. "Nice to meetcha," Sydney finished, letting it drop.

"Shane McCutcheon," Shane tried pleasantly. "We've met."

Sydney and Marina gave her bewildered stares. "You met?"

"Yeah," she confirmed. "Remember? London? That thing with the thing where you did-"

"The thing," Sydney breathed, eyes rolling up in recognition. "Right."

"What thing?"

"Enough." Hands on her hips, Shane had to admit, the Kane woman was intimidating for a skinny heiress. "Just tell me why you're here, and why we have..." Bianca lost her words, and instead just nudged at the unconscious man with her boot. "... that."

"You're not really a hairdresser," Maggie mused. Catching her eye, Shane found herself smiling slightly.

"I used to be."

"Just like you used to be a café owner," Bianca breathed, pointing a finger to Marina, understandably frustrated. "And what were you?" she asked Sydney.

Sydney blinked, mouth forming an 'oh'. "I uh... grad student?"

"Sydney," Lena interrupted, coming forward, hand on Bianca's shoulder, squeezing meaningfully. "Please."

Shane clucked her tongue, caught her partner's glance, and nodded slightly. "Wanna help me with this?" she asked Marina. "Hi, by the way."

"Don Juan," Marina greeted, grunting under the weight. "And how are you?"

"Wicked," she said. Maggie continued to stare, and Shane looked back, until the other blushed and looked away. "Cute," she told Marina.

Marina rolled her eyes in response.

On the street, a small boy rolled a ball along the pavement, chattering and laughing, sticking his booted foot on a crack and catching himself from sprawling by running into a nearby parked car.

For some reason, the action caused a severe ache in Bianca's chest.

She pressed her palm against it, pushing hard, and found her heartbeat, not fast, not slow, but certainly not normal.

Her life, in the space of a day, had become surreal – a haze of a nightmare, and in a burst of despair, she indulged in a fantasy – a what if – if she had come home, and Maggie had greeted her with Miranda.

If they had gone out to dinner or Maggie had surprised her with candlelight and music.

Maggie would have burned the food, of course, and Bianca would have tried to eat it but given up laughing, and they would put Miranda to bed and then they would have just stared at each other, drinking each other in; unsure and afraid and yet so excited.

She would have kissed Maggie, she was sure of it. It would have been soft and delicate, and dangerously romantic, and she would have been overwhelmed by it all, because that was it was like to be in love with the love of your life.

"Bianca."

Her heart shrunk inside her, and her fingers curled into a fist, as she took in a haggard breath and turned, studying Sydney Bristow, a beautiful woman with a severe expression.

"I'm sorry." Sydney said, an apologetic smile on her face. "I didn't mean to confuse or frustrate you. We don't have a lot of time, and there are some things I'd like to explain to you."

Bianca silently stared, first at her, then at Lena, who pressed her back against the wooden walls, quietly listening.

She searched the room for Maggie, and when she didn't find her, found herself suddenly vulnerable again, eyes stinging with emotion.

She didn't have the strength for words, so she simply nodded, arms crossed to support herself.

Maggie wasn't a trusting person by nature and by habit. There was only one person in the world she felt was worthy of it, and sometimes Maggie even doubted Bianca. It wasn't narcissic, it was just that Maggie had enough experience to know that humans in general were capable of anything. David had proved that to her, Babe, her mother.

Bianca was the only real thing she ever felt she had, her and Frankie and Anna, but Frankie was dead and she didn't know where Anna was, and that was fine. She was happy with Bianca.

After so many years of second guessing herself she had finally let herself be happy.

It had culminated in this.

It was her broken heart, her untrusting nature, and her simple curiosity that caused her to follow the hairdresser Shane, and Marina into the small bedroom, watching as they talked to each other like old friends, like people.

She watched them, the easy way that Shane spoke, her soft tone and personality, Marina's elegant, beautiful features, chatting like they were sharing a cup of coffee instead of tying a guy to a chair.

This was the room they had taken Miranda, and standing it in it, Maggie was chilled.

"Hey." She jerked her head back to the pair, and found them both looking at her, studying her intently. "You all right?"

"I'm fine," she managed brusquely.

"She hasn't seen a doctor about the bruise," Marina informed her friend. "But I don't think there's a chance of a concussion."

She remembered the bruise, palm rising to press lightly against the tender area.

Shane sighed, straightened, and suddenly they were both coming toward her. "What are you doing?" she yelped.

"Just give me a sec," Shane whispered, and suddenly those slender fingers were tilting the face, looking at it the same way Marina had looked at it before. Maggie blinked, swallowed hard, and when she drifted her gaze to Shane's face, she discovered a softer look: one of concern. "How are you holding up?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well – this is your place, isn't it? You're raising this baby with your girl, and the baby was taken when you were here with her. Then Bianca brings in her ex-girlfriend, who brings in all these strangers, and you're in here hiding with us instead of being in there with Bianca. So, I'm asking, how are you holding up?"

She did have a way of summing things up.

"It doesn't matter," Maggie said tersely, jerked her chin away from Shane's hand. "She's my best friend, not my girlfriend. The ransom drop is tonight, and we're getting Miranda back. Where I am or who I'm with doesn't matter right now."

For some reason, that just made them even more quiet, and seriously – what was it about these two that scared the crap out of her?

Marina's eyes were dark, calm. "It wasn't your fault that the child was taken. You're very lucky you weren't killed."

"It's not luck," Shane interrupted. "She should have been killed. Why would they leave her alive?"

"I've asked myself the same question."

Oh, God.

"Are you guys trying to make me feel better or make me pee my pants?"

"Maggie." She paused, taken in by Shane's studious glance. "That your girl in there?"

"Huh?"

"Is that your girl?" Shane repeated.

And suddenly she was defeated, as her cheek swelled, and her eyes filled, and she leaned back against the wall, not trusting herself to hold herself up. "I don't know-"

"Maggie," Marina snapped, harder, firmer. "Is Bianca the woman you love? Is she the one you want you spend your life with? Her and her child? Yes, or no?"

She felt naked, open. "Yes." She allowed it, barely a whisper, and when they glanced at each other again, she felt a small surge of anger. "Why do you two care?"

Shane grimaced. "Let's just say we've had our fill of confused straight girls." Before she could ponder that, they both turned away. "You know where you belong."

And strangely, she did. She watched then for another second, and then turned, opening the door and heading to Bianca's.

Sydney waited a moment, though for what, Bianca wasn't sure, and then exhaled. "What me and my friends do, I can't tell you. I'm assuming you can guess."

Bianca licked her lips, nodded shortly. The door inched open, and Bianca froze when Maggie entered, creeping through the open door way and hovering, wearing an odd expression on her face. She caught her glance, managed a small smile.

Maggie couldn't smile back. But she tried. Bianca took small comfort in that.

"The reason Lena contacted Marina, who in turn contacted me," Sydney began softly, "is because of who we're dealing with."

The words floated in, penetrated her haze, and Bianca suddenly took in a sudden breath. "You know who took my baby?"

Sydney seemed to hesitate. "Yes."

"Wait – then why haven't we gone to get her?!" Bianca said, heart sputtering into her throat, nearly choking her. "We have the money! I don't care about the money –"

"It's not that simple," Sydney began.

"Yes!" Maggie snapped, coming forward, standing between her and the stranger. "It IS that simple. If you know where she is-"

"Bianca," Lena whispered.

"NO!" Maggie said, and for once, Bianca was glad for her short temper. "No. We want Miranda back. That's all that matters-"

"IT'S NOT THAT SIMPLE," Sydney reiterated, eyes dark, tone firm. "I need you both to understand something: the person that did this? Is a killer. She will not hesitate to take a child's life. And I don't think she has any intention of giving her back."

Shane always kept a stash of plastic ties in her bag. They were better than rope, weren't detected in airport security, and, she knew from experience, a bitch to get out of.

Working the plastic around his wrists, she pushed the tab through the small block, pulled it through, hearing the clicks, until it locked against his fingers.

"Okay," she said, grunting slightly. "Let go."

Marina did, shifting from straddling the guy in the chair to moving to his feet. "Hand me another one of those – what do you call them?"

Shane glanced down at the stash in her hand. "Plastic thingies?" she offered.

"Plastic thingies," Marina repeated, rounding out the syllables. "So very scientific."

"That's me," Shane said flippantly, "Resident genius."

"I never doubted that for a second," Marina said, and Shane smiled at her affectionately, rising, and wincing at the sharp pain as the blood began to circulate again in her legs.

Shane circled the vendor, studying the lean dark hair, the strong arms. She always hated what was coming.

Marina finished, rising with her, wiping her hands. "I'll help Sydney with this," she said slowly. "You shouldn't have to."

Shane had never been a fan of violence or blood shed. She preferred to fuck her way out of her problems, built to be more of a lover than a fighter, but she had had her share of both.

It never made this easier.

"Yeah," she breathed. "Maybe we don't have to take it that far."

Marina shot her a look, and when Shane shrugged, she conceded with a shrug.

Marina had always been quiet, even as a café owner, and Shane had always liked that about her. Now, the two old friends stood side by side, observing the man who was due a very unpleasant awakening.

Shane blew her breath out, suddenly hot. Marina always reminded her of home.

"Remember when Tina lost her baby?" she whispered, eyes on the guy. "Remember how it nearly killed her? How it destroyed her?"

She didn't look at Marina, but she heard the constraint, the husky, "Yes."

Shane took in an unsteady breath. "This guy deserves to fucking fry."

She turned away.

How could you tell a mother who had already lost her baby once, twice, that her child was in more danger than it had ever been in her life? That somehow, because of the fucking rapist that was the baby's father, she had been snatched away?

That this nightmare wasn't over by a long shot, and they would be dug deeper before they could even think of finding a way out?

Sydney Bristow was a spy. She was a killer. She was a thief. She was a liar, and a patriot, and so many things to so many people.

But she had never been a mother.

And still, she remembered her mother – the face on her mother when Irina had explained to her what it had been like, to have two daughters snatched away from her.

"What do you mean?" Bianca had asked, voice shaky and raw and angry, "What do you mean, NOT give her back?"

"The ransom drop is tonight," Maggie snapped, coming forward. "We're following the deal – why would they not give her back?"

In Sydney's throat was a painful lump, uncomfortable to try to speak around.

"When I know everything, I promise you, I will tell you. And I promise you – we're getting her back. But right now? The key to finding Miranda is in that man."

She must have sounded as sincere as she was, because it was enough to calm them, soothe the panic and hysteria into just plain fear, as Miranda's two mommies exchanged a silent conversation, reached almost unconsciously for each other's hands.

A look back at Lena's haunted face told her she had seen the intimacy too.

"Was he watching us?"

Sydney glanced at Maggie, managed a small nod. "Yes, he was. He's a henchman."

"You'll question him," Lena said matter-of-factly.

"That's one way of putting it." She smiled tightly, took in both Bianca and her partner, tried hard to be gentle. "You won't have to hear this. I'll have someone here-"

"No." Sydney frowned, but Bianca had changed. Her face was calm, her voice was hard, and in that expression Sydney found familiar. "No, I want to be there."

It wasn't Bianca's decision, but Sydney nodded. There wasn't much she would deny the young mother.

She wondered if she would even hand the woman her own blade.

Bianca had opened her house to three killers. She was sure of it.

The woman that Lena had brought into her house all had the same look, all wore their expressions like they practiced them. They all wore black suits, and underneath the blazers, each of them carried a gun, or a knife.

Bianca didn’t condone violence, but in the small bedroom, standing ten feet away from the man sent to spy on them, watching Lena interact with her 'friends', she felt almost relieved.

Soft fingers slid carefully into her palm, and instinctively, Bianca grabbed hold.

Maggie's small form was warm against her side.

"Are you sure you're okay watching this? You don't have to."

Maggie was always trying to protect her. To save her.

They had spent years trying to save each other, and somehow they had always ended up deeper than before.

"I have to," she responded.

Bianca didn't answer, but when Maggie tried to let go, she only clutched tighter. "Don't leave me now," Bianca whispered. It was desperate and unlike her, but Maggie had to know that Bianca needed her.

Maggie didn't say anything, but she tightened her hold on Bianca's palm, intertwining their fingers.

"Allright..." Shane let out an uneasy breath, glancing around at her friends and their audience. "Are we ready for this?"

Marina only looked at the floor, already mentally preparing for the exercise, and Sydney, absorbed in sharpening a knife, simply gave her a look.

Lena, Marina's hot friend, looked conflicted, but when Shane smiled, nodded encouragingly, she nodded back.

"Great. Showtime."

Fuck. Here we go.

With a haggard breath, she moved, steps faltering slightly at the two women at the other side of the room, and then resuming her pace, circling around the dude.

She waited a second, and let her hand go, flinging across his face with a sharp slap.

The head snapped back, a moan burst forth, and suddenly there he was, awake, slowly becoming alert.

Settled down on her haunches, Shane made sure he had a good view of the scene behind her.

"Hey," she greeted. "Afternoon, sunshine."