Sex Disclaimer: It is a f/f however, as usual, the focus is on the relationship and story development, if you’re looking for hot and heavy sex scenes, you won’t find ‘em here. Sorry. :P

Violence Disclaimer: Um… yeah. It’s in there, it’s not too crazy (promise, Scout’s Honor… really).

Language Disclaimer: Yes there are some adult words used and despite my best efforts I doubt any of them are ones you haven’t heard before. I’ll try harder next time. :) I suppose language could also include the whole ‘grammar/spelling’ thing as well. As I didn’t have a beta all mistakes on that front are my own.

Legal Disclaimer: Don’t particularly think I need one here. This is much more an original than an uber fic but,- just in case-, I’ll do the whole ‘please don’t sue me, I’m broke and taking me for all I’m worth would only get you a 6 year old computer, a 4 year old Yorkshire Terrier and 2 roommates who don’t take out the bin.’ Oh, there should be one disclaimer, I use the term ‘batarang’. Mostly, it’s because it’s an easy way for everyone to identify the weapon, ‘cause really, everyone knows what a batarang is. Right? *cough*

Feedback: Is always wanted and appreciated and can be sent on its merry little way to Terias_McKlay@hotmail.com

On with the Show…

The Guardian

"Any ideas as to what exactly I'm supposed to do here?" Mariska asked adjusting the large sunglasses perched atop her nose. She touched her forefinger to the auto adjust on the camera mounted on the glasses hoping to clear up the view for her partner on the other end of the transmission signal.

" I suppose eenie meenine minie mo, isn't what you're looking for?" Her partner asked his hurried typing audible over the radio. Looking at the timer that was far too close to zero for her liking Mariska shook her head.

"Not really, no."

"I'm searching for similar bomb schematics but I can't seem to locate any." Mariska looked around the crowded subway car the other riders' faces masks of fear. Justifiably so, if they didn't find a way to disarm the bomb they were all about to become a tragic headline.

"Try harder," Mariska advised standing and searching for any way to get the bomb off the train without making a kaboom. "One minute." She reminded before approaching one of the train doors. She pulled her knife from her boot sliding it between the doors to wedge them open enough to get her hands in. She pulled the doors apart, willing herself not to look down or consider how very fast they were going or how quickly her life would end if she miscalculated her balance and fell.

Satisfied the doors would remain open she returned to the ticking weapon trying to pick it up. It had taken the two men who were now unconscious on the ground to lift it into the subway car so Mariska was unsurprised when every muscle in her body screamed in protest as she tried to move device.

"You," she said pointing at the biggest man she could see, "come here." He hesitated only for a moment before standing from his seat and coming to her side. "Help me." Mariska looked down at the timer.

35 seconds.

They each grabbed a side picking it up by the handles along the top and muscling it over to the door.

25 seconds.

She could make out the light at the end of the tunnel now. They weren't far from the bridge that would take them over the nature reserve. The first car of the train cleared the tunnel and Mariska picked up her end of the bomb holding it high off the ground. Her helper did the same waiting for Mariska's cue as to what was next.

15 seconds.

Their car cleared the tunnel and Mariska poked her head out the door trying to judge the timing so as not to launch the bomb into one of the bridge's railings instead of out into the sky. She didn't have time to really judge it, it was going to be more an educated guess than anything else.

10 seconds.

"On three," she swung the bomb back. "One." It came forward. "Two." It swung back. "Three!" They let go, the bomb sailing through a set of posts and clearing the main girder only to clip on one edge of the support beams and begin to spin wildly as gravity carried it downward.

"Get down!" She yelled tugging the man back and to the floor as a thunderous boom echoed through the car. Mariska winced, even at this distance she could feel the scorching heat through the protection of her leather vest. Satisfied that nothing, save for the bomb, had caught fire or blown up Mariska got to her feet looking around for the culprits of the little debacle. One man was still out cold and tightly hand cuffed to one of the seats. The other had managed to get himself off the ground and was currently barrel assing to the back of the train car.

"He's getting away," Oracle supplied helpfully as the video registered on his end.

"Thanks, your powers of observation are overwhelming," Manska said as she patted her helper on the back before taking off after the would be bomber. She followed after him her long legs quickly eating up the distance between them. She nearly had a gloved hand on the back of his collar when he swung a woman around and into Mariska knocking them both to the ground. Mariska twisted to land on the bottom cushioning the woman's fall with her body.

Satisfied the bystander was uninjured she moved out from beneath her and continued on. There was now a full car between them and Mariska could feel the train begin to slow as they pulled into a station. She would lose him in the rush hour crowd if he made it out of the doors. Determined not to let him get the opportunity she ducked to the side and pulled hard on the emergency stop. The train wheels screamed against the track as they came to an abrupt halt, half the train in the tunnel the other in the station.

The sudden stop had thrown the man to the side and he was slowly picking himself up as Mariska approached. He seemed disoriented and she smirked as she caught sight of the large gash across his forehead. By the time he had his wits about him she already had one cuff around his wrist and the other secured around one of the cars poles.

"You know it's unlawful for anyone but transport personnel to move between cars when the train is in motion, I'm afraid you'll have to be taken into custody." He looked at her in confusion and she gave him a small salute before making her way to the back of the train and sliding out of the car and into the tunnel.

"Exit Oracle," she said eyes scanning the darkness for an easy way to get topside.

"G....S....indi...tunn.." Mariska frowned at the broke response, the heavy stone of the tunnel seemed to be blocking the signal from her partner. She pulled the flashlight from her belt clicking it on and searching for a man door to get out of the tunnel before the TTC or worse, the TPS, figured out she had been on the train.

Local law enforcement had a tendency to get a little testy when she got involved in things. She continued on light sweeping across the dark tunnel and letting out a sigh in relief as she located a maintenance ladder that would take her to the surface. She tucked her flashlight into her vest and began the ascent hearing the voices of the security force as they pushed their way to the back of the train. She took a moment to turn off her flashlight before moving upwards to reach the manhole. As she reached it she hunched over using her shoulder to push the cover up and off. Mariska did a quick check around the dark alley for witnesses before pulling her body out and dusting off her pants.

"Oracle?" She asked over the radio as she tugged the manhole cover back into place.

"I read you Guardian," he said, his voice loud and clear.

"Time check please." Mariska requested as she pulled her backpack from her shoulders and tugged the hood back from her face to shake out long dark hair. The bomb had been an impromptu tip and she'd barely had time to get her soft leather vest on let alone tie her hair back properly. It had been dicey there for a few minutes when the first perp had pulled a pistol on her. She usually patrolled with a Kevlar vest beneath her costume but there simply hadn't been time to gear up properly. Quick reflexes and bad aim on the perps' part had saved her from anything beyond a small nick on her arm.

"Time is 1530," the man said.

"Shit! Midterm in half an hour!" Mariska screamed as she hurriedly pulled her large overshirt from her bag tugging it on over her vest. She had no need to worry about changing her pants, she hadn't even had time to switch from jeans to her leathers. Her favourite pair of jeans had paid the price though, between scorch marks and grease from the ladder they'd had it. Oh well, couldn't win them all.

She tugged sharply on her backpack straps to tighten them and ducked out of the alley heading towards the bus stop. She had a feeling the subway service would be a little slower than usual.

**

Mariska slid to a stop in front of her classroom quickly tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before trying to quietly make her way into the room. The door refused to co-operate squeaking as she moved it and announcing her presence to anyone who was at a desk.

"Miss Cooper, how nice of you to join us." Mariska felt a blush creep up her neck as her professor pinned her with icy eyes. He hadn't liked her since she had come late to the first class. It hadn't been her fault, there had been a hold-up at her bank and damned if she was going to let some gun-toting amateur get his paws on her hard earned cash.

"Sorry Professor Marsden," she said.

"Sit," he said coolly tossing a test booklet onto the desk nearest his own. She sighed and obeyed despite her instinctive desire to lash out at being ordered around. She bet no one ever ordered The Claw around . Served her right for having scruples. The bad guys got to have all the fun.

**

"What've you got for tonight?" Mariska asked in greeting as her partner picked up the phone. She tucked her books under her arm and started the hike to her small apartment from the campus.

"Hello to you too," Oracle said. "Looks as though our friend the police officer will be making a pick up tonight."

"Great, I'll head over shortly." It had taken them nearly four months to track a series of fight clubs to a single person. During that time nearly 20 young men and women had disappeared from the streets. Mariska knew the numbers were likely higher, it was easy for street kids to slip through the cracks.

By the time she reached the warehouse that housed the equipment the sun had already begun to set. She tugged her sunglasses from her face and approached the scanner using her palm print to gain access to the entry way.

"Lucas?" She called out her voice echoing across the large warehouse.

"In here." Mariska headed downstairs for the computer room tempted to put her hand up to her eyes to shield them. Lucas generally had so many screens going it was like looking at a solar flare.

"Where's the pick-up?" She asked sidling up next to her partner in crime fighting.

"West end, near Queen and Landsdowne," he answered highlighting the area with his cursor.

"Guess the phone tap finally got us somewhere," she said as she headed over to her gear to get ready. There were various modifications of her costume, some meant to be hidden under her street clothes, other, more durable ones, to be worn when she went out looking for trouble. She wore no mask, only a pair of wrap around sunglasses that were equipped with sound and video to keep Lucas in the loop.

He had been out of the field for almost a year now, and she knew he was still trying to come to terms with the fact that, while he was still in the war, he couldn't be on the front lines. They were both still trying to adjust to being a two person team.

Mariska pulled on her Kevlar vest the protective armour fitting snugly around a trim midsection. Next was her pistol, rarely used but always present and tightly slung at her shoulder. Her utility belt sat low on her hips straps clipped around her legs to prevent too much motion. Within the belt was a built in flashlight for a belt buckle, first aid material, a few smoke bombs and her batarangs along with a small police scanner that transmitted through her earpiece.

"You'll need to move quickly, the drop off isn't too long from now," Lucas advised walking over to her and handing her the newly modified grappling gun. He had increased the tensile hold of the wire and upped the carrying capacity of the gears after a close call involving her, a damsel in distress and a very high rise.

"Be careful with this, the new trigger is pretty touchy, make sure the safety is on." Mariska nodded tucking the gun in the holster on her leg and strapping it in. She tried not to use it too much, putting the grapple into anything from a weak brick or slightly rusted piece of metal could have her plunging to her death before the retractor would pull in the cable and let her fire again. Lucas had broken his ankle a couple of years back using their first modification when he'd pulled the grapple out and the retractor had jammed.

They'd had a couple of those types of incidents in the beginning, though they were getting better about it. Their current equipment had been put through the rigors of patrol and all of it seemed to be holding up, more or less.

They were another matter.

She had all but lost feeling in her right calf where an errant knife had slit her open. Her left ear drum had been blown out twice, once with a concussion grenade that had gone off prematurely and again when she had been struggling for a gun that had gone off next to her head.

Lucas, well Lucas hadn't done so hot either. One night of mayhem had ended his field career when he'd taken a shotgun to his knees. He was walking with a cane now, after nearly eight months in a wheelchair, but that had officially been the end of his old crime-fighting persona.

And Lisa. They didn't talk about Lisa. Ever.

Mariska shrugged off the memory getting her head back in the game. They had a job to do. She tucked her snap out baton into its place on her leg and pulled her hood up to hide her face.

"Here," Lucas reached around her neck putting a throat mic into place and attaching it to her sunglasses. "I've upped the signal strength, there's going to be a lot of interference if you're in the bottom set of tunnels," She gave him a thumbs up and headed for the door that would lead into the sewers. It wasn't her preferred method of travel, she had gotten a taste for the skies with their new paragliding gear. But sometimes the old ways were the best ways.

"Alright, let's get this show on the road," Mariska said as she walked into the sewer access and threw her leg over the four by four. The trade site wasn't far from their Lakeshore warehouse and with the quad she made it to the alley with time to spare.

"I'm onsite Oracle," she said as she settled herself on a rooftop and waited for the arrival of the cop.

"Copy that Guardian, he's just confirmed the meet, should be there in five or so." Mariska nodded and settled in glad summer was still keeping its grip on the city. Stake outs in winter sucked beyond all recognition.

"Looks like the party's starting," Mariska said as she turned her head and focused the mini-cam on an approaching van.

"No sign of the good detective?" He asked.

"Negative," Mariska shifted in place as she watched two teenagers pulled from the van. They were scruffy looking boys blind folded and bound. The men in charge were well built stocky thugs and Mariska could see the distinct bulge of a pistol at the hip of each one. She could take them down. A couple of well paced batarangs and a dropkick from three stories up would sort the immediate problem out.

Unfortunately, they needed the trade to go through so she could track the cop to the underground arena. No matter really, chances were the guys would pop up on her radar again soon enough.

"Got anything yet?" Mariska asked.

"Not yet, facial recognition bots are still working. No sign of our friend?" Mariska was going to reply in the negative but stopped short as a second car pulled into the alley.

"Looks like he just showed up, going stealth," She unholstered her grappling gun securing the line around the step of the fire escape on the opposite side of the building and lowering herself down before heading around the building for the trade site. Mariska pulled a tracer from her belt and moved quietly to the back of the cop's car securing the device in place and pressing the button to activate it.

"Can you get into his car?" Lucas asked. Mariska ducked low sliding along the driver's side ever mindful of the position of the others. She gently pulled on the door handle cursing quietly under her breath when she found it locked.

"Negative, it's locked and I don't have time to get in."

"So much for downloading his GPS history." Lucas said. Mariska nodded. "Alright, can you get a tracker on the other vehicle?"

"Yeah, I think so," Mariska said making her way to a dumpster where she tucked herself behind a set of garbage cans. She watched as the head thug shook hands with the cop and motioned for the other two to guide the hostages to the back of the car. While they kept themselves occupied exchanging money she moved along the wall in the shadows heading for the back of the van. She tucked a tracer into the undercarriage and pulled out her grappling gun waiting until she was around the corner before pulling the trigger and allowing it to pull her to the roof.

She watched as the cop car turned the corner and headed into the city streets.

"He's going South."

"Roger that." She took off along the edge of the building following behind the car. Frequent stops at the traffic lights allowed her to keep the vehicle within sight and she jumped from her building as the police car turned a corner.

She grasped the lamp pole as she fell wrapping her arms around it and sliding quickly to the ground. She was unable to keep pace as the lights turned green and forewent the road opting instead to duck into Highpark.

"You don't even know if he's going to go West," Oracle argued over the comms.

"Traffic on the Gardiner at this time is insane. He has to go West if he doesn't want to sit in downtown for 45 minutes with two hostages in his back seat." Mariska said grunting as her boot slid in the soft dirt as she cut across the center of the large park.

One of the maintenance trucks passed her at a crossway and she reached out grabbing onto his bumper and tucking herself behind the tailgate.

"He's going to beat you to Lakeshore."

"No he's not," she let herself off near the Zen ponds her feet hitting the pavement at stride and carrying her towards Lakeshore Boulevard. She pumped her arms breath coming in a deep steady cadence as she put on what was left of her speed running up the concrete slope that separated the park from the busy traffic.

"His speed is constant, he's not stopping anywhere near St. Joe's."

"Shit," she waited for the car to pass before sprinting across the highway and unhooking her grappling gun using it to pull herself up to the street car platform. The train sped past her and she jumped for the back step digging her hands between the cracks of the door to hold on to the train as it moved.

"Oracle I'm going to lose visual."

"You've got about two clicks before you lose audio as well, you're moving beyond our short range capability."

"Damn it," she reached up climbing to the top of the train and running low on the roof towards the front of the train. She pulled her binos out searching for the unmarked police car.

There, making a left turn into an apartment complex. She tucked the binos into her vest and took aim at an approaching street lamp with her grappling gun. She fired letting out a small grunt as it caught and she jumped from the train swinging herself toward the building.

She hit the ground at a run dodging a passing car and slipping into the underground parking lot.

"Guardian, anything?" Mariska sighed as she caught sight of the police car. The empty police car.

"Um, Oracle, you're not going to like this."

Mariska threw herself onto her bed reaching over to grab her pillow and holding it against her face before letting out a deep yell. It wasn't bad enough she had lost the cop and the kids. She'd spent another hour backtracking and chasing down the van involved only to find out those fuckers had switched cars as well. She hadn't seen the swap and despite two tracking devices and hours of work they were still empty handed.

Lucas hadn't been impressed.

Neither had she. At least they had visuals of the thugs who were nabbing the kids. They could hopefully get an ID from the police files and trace them back to a particular organization. To make matters worse she had to work the evening shift tomorrow. There coming in a deep steady cadence as she put on what was left of her speed running up the concrete slope that separated the park from the busy traffic.

"His speed is constant, he's not stopping anywhere near St. Joe's."

"Shit," she waited for the car to pass before sprinting across the highway and unhooking her grappling gun using it to pull herself up to the street car platform. The train sped past her and she jumped for the back step digging her hands between the cracks of the door to hold on to the train as it moved.

"Oracle I'm going to lose visual."

"You've got about two clicks before you lose audio as well, you're moving beyond our short range capability."

"Damn it," she reached up climbing to the top of the train and running low on the roof towards the front of the train. She pulled her binos out searching for the unmarked police car.

There, making a left turn into an apartment complex. She tucked the binos into her vest and took aim at an approaching street lamp with her grappling gun. She fired letting out a small grunt as it caught and she jumped from the train swinging herself toward the building.

She hit the ground at a run dodging a passing car and slipping into the underground parking lot.

"Guardian, anything?" Mariska sighed as she caught sight of the police car. The empty police car.

"Urn, Oracle, you're not going to like this."

Mariska threw herself onto her bed reaching over to grab her pillow and holding it against her face before letting out a deep yell. It wasn't bad enough she had lost the cop and the kids. She'd spent another hour backtracking and chasing down the van involved only to find out those fuckers had switched cars as well. She hadn't seen the swap and despite two tracking devices and hours of work they were still empty handed.

Lucas hadn't been impressed.

Neither had she. At least they had visuals of the thugs who were nabbing the kids. They could hopefully get an ID from the police files and trace them back to a particular organization. To make matters worse she had to work the evening shift tomorrow. There would be no chance to patrol or try to pick up the trail of the missing street kids. She was beginning to get frustrated.

**

"Stop getting so frustrated, they're just kids," Alisha said rubbing Mariska's arm soothingly.

"They're not just kids," Mariska argued. "They're demonic hell spawn," she concluded eyes falling on the large birthday party that had her swimming in teenagers.

The popular waterfront area was a hot spot for the older teenage set. The ones who were all attitude. Mariska hadn't felt such a strong need to hit something since the time she'd been run down by some henchmen on a moped. Talk about the epitome of embarrassing. And now the goddamn brats were making all kinds of noise disturbing the other customers and aggravating a headache that was threatening to turn into a full blown migraine. It was about time to start laying some smack down.

"I'm going to try one more time to get their order and then I'm gonna start bouncing people," she said tucking her notepad into the waistband of her jeans and walking towards the rowdy group.

She stood at the table waiting for one of them to shut the hell up finally crossing her arms and staring at the boardwalk as she waited. She could see a young couple walking hand in hand and felt a dull ache in her chest. She missed that, missed the holding hands, the doe-eyed looks. All of it.

After Lisa things had never been the same. She had tried to date again, mostly at Lucas' insistence. It hadn't ever worked. Her mind had inevitably compared the women to what she had once had and everyone had come up lacking in her eyes. Pulling herself out of her morose thoughts Mariska tried to put her mind back in the present. What was done was done. They had all known the risks when they had taken on the job. Knew the possible consequences.

"Hey!" Mariska's hand instinctively went down grabbing onto the questing fingers tightly before they could reach their target. "Your hands touch my ass you better make it good 'cause it's the last thing they'll ever have the privilege to feel," she warned tossing the hand to the side.

The teen looked at her wide eyed before sitting back in his chair and placing his hands in his lap.

"Are you ordering or am I tossing you all out of here?" She asked pinning the teens with her coldest stare. She had almost made a Mafioso cry with that stare. These kids didn't stand a chance. They all quieted down demurely picking up their previously ignored menus. "You have 60 seconds." She couldn't believe she wasn't much older than these kids. Four years made a difference sure, but the gap between her and them seemed almost like a canyon. It was beginning to seem that way with people in her own age group as well. Sighing Mariska turned to the table. The boy who had made a grab for her seemed to have taken her sigh as further impatience and was quick to nod at her to tell her he was ready.

Mariska tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear, the hot afternoon sun making her wish she had gone though with her attempt to cut it.

"What do you want?" She wrote down his order and moved onto his friend only half listening as her ears perked up at the sound of police sirens. There was no sound of fire trucks though if she concentrated she could hear the helicopters. The sound of sirens came closer and her concentration was totally taken at the sound of glass and metal meeting concrete. Someone had hit the murals in the parking lot.

Two men with guns shot past the patio heading for the boardwalk. She had no idea where they thought they were going, it dead ended 300 feet into the water, they were about to trap themselves. And her without her costume. Four uniforms were on their heels and looked to be keeping up well enough.

"Miss?"

"Shut up," she ordered watching as the thug shouldered past a couple. The man pitched forward and attempted to find his balance time seeming to slow as the toddler on his shoulders went forward and over the edge of the railing.

"Shit," she dropped her pad hopping onto the long table and running the length of it. She jumped onto the boardwalk and began to sprint. The couple were frantically trying to figure a way into the water where the boy had gone in, it was a good fifty feet down. The man was climbing onto the railing when Mariska shot past him using a bench as a start point to get up and over the barrier.

She put her body into a dive hands slicing through the water as she hit clearing the path for the rest of her body. She opened her eyes in the murky water catching sight of a frantically moving boy who couldn't seem to fight his way up. Baggy jeans now soaked with water were too heavy to let him get any kind of lift and Mariska kicked down to him reaching out to him and taking a small hand in her larger one.

She pulled him to her chest and began to kick upwards the lack of oxygen already making her lungs burn. Her own clothing wasn't swimming friendly either. The sheer top and the slip underneath weren't a problem but the heavy leather boots and jeans made every kick a trial as she swam towards daylight.

Mariska surfaced with a sputter treading water as she brushed off the boy's face clearing the wet hair out of his eyes.

"You're alright, your mom's coming," Mariska said quietly repeating the words of assurance as she ascended the ladder. As she neared the top she could see the standoff between the police and the criminals through the slats of the boardwalk. The men were backed against the edge of the railing guns pointed at the four officers as police helicopters passed over head.

No way she could just throw the kid onto walkway, stray bullets would be flying everywhere shortly. It seemed most everyone else had cleared the pier, that made things a little easier. She rested the boy against her chest reaching for one of the support beams under the pier itself throwing her legs up to wrap around for extra support before pulling her body towards the edge of the pier. She spared a quick look down noting there were a number of pier supports to hit before she would reach the water a good fifty feet beneath them.

Falling was out then.

Holding tighter to the support beams she continued her spider walk to the edge. She could see the bottom of the feet of the police now. Almost there. The boy let out a sniffle and she quietly shushed him as they reached the edge. Maneuvering carefully Mariska tucked him in between two support beams instructing him to hold tight.

Wrapping her legs tightly around the beam she let go to free her hands and unbuckled her belt. She tugged the leather from her waist and put it in her mouth before reaching up for the bottom edge of the pier. Her abs protested as she pulled herself up and took hold of the edge with her hands. She could see the backs of the criminals calves now and 20 feet from that the knees of the officers.

She had only one chance, she hoped to hell it worked out. She let go with one hand and threw her belt forward buckle first. She angled the toss and the buckle came back towards her as the belt wrapped around one man's ankle. Letting go with her other hand she grabbed the buckle end allowing her body to drop and pulling the criminal off his feet as she went. She heard the dull thud as he landed almost simultaneous with the sounds of two gunshots. She dropped her belt reaching for the support beams and keeping herself from going into the water. The second criminal had been hit by an officer, Mariska could see his downed body through the spaces on the walkway and blood was trickling through the slats of the boards.

Satisfied no further help was needed she reached out for the boy and swung them back to the ladder. She climbed quickly hoping to avoid being seen as she hurriedly walked the boy to his frantic parents and disappeared into the crowd.

**

"That was stupid."

"I know."

"Anyone could've seen you."

"I know."

"You put everything at risk if our identities are discovered..."

"I know goddamn it!" Mariska screamed. "What was I supposed to do, let the kid drown? Let some cops get shot up in the middle of the street? There were bystanders everywhere, people would've gotten killed."

"You don't think someone you worked with noticed you? Saw what you did?"

"What does it matter? Everything they have on me is fake anyway, my name, my address..."

"They know your face, that's more than enough to start with."

"Assuming anyone even links me to the pier."

"Someone will Mariska, that's the point. There is always someone out there trying to take us down."

"I don't need your goddamn lectures Lucas, I've been in this game just as long as you have."

"Then start acting like it." She narrowed her eyes at the man before finally throwing up her hands and walking out of the den of his small apartment.

"I'm going home," she declared pulling her purse from the counter.

"There are sacrifices that have to be made to protect who we are Mariska. We can't help anyone if we're dead or in jail."

"And when that sacrifice is something like losing a shoplifter or waiting a day to grab some piss ant drug dealer you can come and talk to me. When it's the life of a child and four men who put themselves on the line to protect this city you don't get to make that call," she retorted pulling the door open. "I think you need to revisit why it was we do what we do Lucas. It's not about catching the criminals, it's about the people we help, if you've lost that, you shouldn't be in this game anymore." She closed the door leaving a silent Lucas in her wake.

**

"Can I get another?" Mariska asked holding up her bottle for the bartender to see. He nodded and turned to get her drink while Mariska looked over the bar. Calling it seedy would have been a compliment. The felt of the pool table was burned with cigarettes and the stools surrounding it looked barely stable enough to support a child let alone the weight of a grown man.

"Here ya go," she handed him money in return for the beer waving off the change as she sat deeper on her stool leaning against the bar surveying the patrons.

Her attention was mostly focused on a lone redhead across the bar whom seemed to have no interest in the patrons as she kept her head down in a book. The others had certainly noticed her, one group of young men seemed to be particularly interested and were cajoling one of their group to go to her table.

"I've got a feeling that's a bad idea," Mariska said quietly before taking another pull from her beer. One of the men finally stood up and walked over thumbs hitched in the pockets of his jeans. Mariska watched as he invited himself to sit down leaning forward into the woman's space. The redhead immediately sat back leveling a cool glare at him that very nearly made Mariska wince in sympathy. She had seen some nasty looks in her day, that woman definitely had the 'don't fuck with me' one down pat.

The boy seemed to be feeling no pain though and sat further forward to minimize the space between him and the woman. The redhead said something to him that finally made him rethink his idea and he stood from the table looking ego bruised and a little angry. Couple that with booze and Mariska bet something stupid was bound to happen.

The redhead stood closing her book and finishing the last of her drink with a zealous gulp. She left her table collecting her light coat from the chair as she went. The woman, maybe in her early thirties, gave a slight nod to the bartender as she left. Her eyes met Mariska's briefly and the brunette was startled by the near current that seemed to pass through her from the redhead's gaze.

She shrugged off the odd feeling getting her head back in the game as she saw two of the men leave after the woman each holding cigarettes in their hands. Mariska eyed them suspiciously, they hadn't gone out to smoke all night and she didn't see a lighter between the two of them. She put her beer bottle on the counter and followed after them her hand instinctively going to her shirt. She had her spandex costume underneath and as she left the bar she scanned the area for the redhead and the two young men. She could see them all, not far off, the woman was headed for the subway the men close enough on her heels to be threatening but not outright assaultive yet.

Mariska gave a glance around before quickly ducking into an alley and pulling her street clothes off. She tucked them behind a dumpster and reached for her neck releasing the snaps that held her hood in folded position. She tugged the hood up to cover her face and tied the built in mask around her eyes as she ran to close the distance between herself and the trio.

By the time she had arrived the men had cornered their quarry pushing the woman against a glass store front.

"Excuse me gentlemen, I don't believe the lady is interested," Mariska said her hand reaching back for a batarang. Before the first could move she let the weapon fly easily knocking the knife from the firsts' hand. On its return trip the weapon neatly clipped him in the back of the head knocking him to the ground. Mariska calmly stepped over his unconscious form eyes focused on his partner.

"Who are you?" He asked hands shaking as he began to back away from her.

"Oh c'mon now," Mariska said treating him to a feral smile. "I think you already know the answer to that," she flashed her batarang at him the dark symbol flashing against the white metal identifying her. It wasn't as though there were any other costumed crime fighters running around the city. Her reputation really did precede her.

"We didn't mean nothin' just trying to scare her a bit is all. She shouldna been so rude." Mariska rolled her eyes taking another step forward and putting the bulk of her body between the man and the redhead.

"Bad manners or no, you don't get the right to scare anyone, least of all with knives," she said flicking her wrist and releasing the batarang. The small projectile knocking the weapon from his hand and tt landed on the cement with a soft clang. He looked at her in shock evidently unaware she had seen him reach for it. Idiots. It was hard to actually teach them a lesson when they were thick as fucking bricks. Thus disarmed he did all he could think to do.

He ran.

Mariska reached into her pocket pulling out her weights on a rope. She swung it twice over her head before letting it fly aiming it at his knees. The weapon connected with his ankles the momentum of the weights swinging them around and wrapping the rope around his legs. He fell hard against the cement and didn't get up.

Satisfied he wouldn't be going anywhere for the moment Mariska turned to the would be victim. She still wore the same self assured look as though she hadn't just been threatened by two over zealous punks. If only they could all be so centered.

"Are you alright Miss?" Mariska asked bending down to retrieve the woman's bok that had fallen to the ground in the fray. "Nietzche? Interesting choice for a Friday night."

"We all have our quirks," the woman said. "Some of us read in seedy bars, others dress up like trick or treaters and indulge in their hero complex." Mariska's eyes widened and she turned to watch as the woman brushed past her and walked off into the night.

"Huh, how do you like that?"

Mariska yawned as she waited for the Starbuck's line to move forward. The one downside, -okay not the only one but currently the most notable-, to being a masked vigilante was the double duty work day. She had waitressed until nearly midnight and then patrolled until four am. All before an eight thirty class of course. She was going to need a caffeine IV if she pulled many more of these kinds of days.

"Hey lady, let's go, you mind?" Mariska raised an eyebrow turning back to glare at the man before taking a deliberately slow step forward. It wasn't smart to start shit with her before she was properly caffeinated. People would get hurt.

"What can I get for you?" Mariska gave her order, far more caffeine than was likely healthy, and began to search her purse for her wallet. Pen, cover-up, loose change, batarang... She heard a deep sigh behind her and turned to face the man full on a hand on the batarang in her bag.

"I've got it." Mariska looked up in surprise. "Put a latte on there as well."

"I, uh, thank you," Mariska said looking at the woman.

"No need," she said waving it off. "I was shamelessly using you to jump line, it's worth a couple extra bucks." Mariska smiled even while her mind was working overdrive to identify how she knew the woman. She was certain she had seen her before.

"I think our order's ready."

"Huh, oh right," Mariska turned away to grab her drinks quickly throwing back the Espresso before taking her cappuccino and handing the woman's latte to her.

"I'm Mariska by the way."

"Alana," the woman said over her shoulder as she weaved through the crowded tables to the sole unoccupied one. Mariska spotted a yuppie looking couple eyeing it before suddenly veering off. Mariska looked over at Alana curiously when she caught the redhead's stare. She knew that stare. The woman from the bar.

"Son of a..." She stopped herself before she could complete the curse. Alana looked at her curiously. "Spilled some." Mariska said in way of explanation sitting at the table as Alana motioned her down. The redhead certainly looked different in the business suit with her hair down. The curly locks made her jaw look less severe though the crisp line of the suit didn't leave her without any sharp edges.

"Thanks again," Mariska said raising her coffee in thanks and trying to remember this woman had been rude to the Guardian, not to her. Not everyone appreciated the job she did and she accepted that the line she straddled between justice and her own criminality was a fine one. If she didn't know how to classify herself how could anyone else?

"No problem, always willing to help out a woman in need." Mariska had to consciously fight not to suck in a mouthful of hot cappuccino. The irony of that statement could have killed her. Surely this woman had no idea who she was actually talking to.

"I, uh."

"I'm a divorce lawyer," Alana stated. "I usually find myself under a woman's employ. Men seem to get nervous when telling a woman about how many affairs they've had outside their marriage."

"If you stare them down the way you did them," Mariska motioned to the now milling couple, "I think I can understand why." The redhead merely shrugged sitting back in her seat.

"I get what I want, it's why I'm a good lawyer." Mariska raised an eyebrow but didn't refute the statement. She had a feeling the woman did usually manage to get what she wanted. And if not, that hell really had no fury quite like the woman in front of her. It was slightly unsettling and a little intriguing at the same time. Were personalities like that natural or fostered by circumstances?

"Like today I suppose," Mariska said taking a sip from her coffee. "You wanted your caffeine earlier so you swooped in to save me from my lack of change?" She asked quirking her lips slightly. Alana returned the smile with one of her own and Mariska was surprised by the transformation. The stern face went from slightly intimidating to undeniably attractive in a split second.

"Hardly, I wanted your phone number, the coffee was my convenient segue. My next tactic was bumping into you on the way out the door." Mariska smiled at the woman's bluntness, where it had irked her last Friday it was rather appealing in the light of day. Women with confidence tended to be a turn on.

"Oh really?" The brunette asked gray eyes taking in the lightly freckled face. "And you're a woman who always gets what she wants?"

"That's correct," Alana said taking another sip from her coffee looking over the rim at Mariska as she drank.

"Hmm," Mariska found herself intrigued by the woman despite herself. "Well in the interest of keeping your track record intact I guess I'll have to give it you."

"Good choice," Alana said with a satisfied smirk reaching into her purse for a pen and paper.

"I've got one," Mariska said reaching into her bag hands coming across the soft leather of her wallet. "Huh, weird," she said pulling it from her bag. "I could've sworn..." she shook her head, she really was useless before coffee it seemed. She put the wallet back in pulling a pen and piece of note paper out. "Since you bought coffee how about I buy next time?" Mariska asked handing the paper to the woman across from her.

"It's a date," Alana said with a smile as she stood. "I'm sorry, I've got to run," Mariska looked at her own watch wincing at the time.

"Yeah me too," Mariska said throwing her purse over her shoulder.

"I'll talk to you soon." Mariska waved taking off to the opposite side of the coffee house and heading off to class.

**

"Look, I don't care if you have to hire a hooker to take him to bed, I need proof of infidelity to nullify the pre-nup, get it. That's what I pay you for." Alana hung up the phone running a hand through red hair.

What a shitty day.

Things had started out well enough, she'd met the girl from the bar in the coffee shop. She'd seen the athletic brunette eye her all night on Friday and had decided it was time to approach when those idiots had sent one of their friends over to harass her. After that Alana had been in no mood to play the game even with someone as attractive as Mariska happened to be.

And afterwards.

She sighed and rolled her eyes looking out over the Toronto skyline and towards the lake. The morons had followed her out of the bar with ill deeds on their minds. By that time she had been itching for a fight and had baited them in close enough to start doing damage when that damned woman had shown up.

The Guardian.

Alana snorted aloud at the memory. The little hero had dispatched the delinquents easily enough. Not that they had been much more than annoying children but she was willing to give credit were credit was due. The Guardian had been around for some time and one didn't survive long in that line of work without being either extremely good or extremely lucky. Perhaps both.

At any rate, the woman had looked at her like a dog begging for a treat. A thank-you. An acknowledgement of a job well done. Alana hated beggars. Couple that with her irritation at being denied a good round of fisticuffs and her demeanor with the Guardian had be been less than friendly.

No matter.

When she had seen Mariska this morning her mood had been much improved though now she didn't have the luxury of a bar line as a cover. Unwilling to let the opportunity to talk to the young woman slip by again she resorted to something she had given up years ago. Pick pocketing. She had slipped Mariska's wallet from her purse while the woman had been in her early morning haze. It had been easy, as though she had never left off it as a teen. After paying for the coffee she had quickly dropped it into the open bag and led the woman to an empty table. She'd had to use the glare she usually reserved for legal opponents and underlings but had gotten them a table. And a phone number.

That had been the highlight of her day.

Two cases she had expected to settle were going to the court. It meant more hours to bill but she hadn't counted on the extra load and she had spent half the day trying to renegotiate so she didn't spend the next six months arguing custody of a crab apple tree to a judge. Honestly, why she chose law, and divorce court no less, over any other day job she could have had she really didn't know.

She was smart enough to have done anything really. Medical school, research, business, it wasn't really about the money, more about the air of respectability, the appearance of it. She supposed she could never truly be respectable. She didn't have the breeding or background for that type of thing. But appearances meant a lot and so, when she had needed a front to hide her more dubious business practices, she had chosen law. She would have tried criminal law except she hadn't wanted to end up defending anyone she knew. Too much potential for things to backfire.

Divorce court was better. Except today. Sighing she stood from the dark cherry desk ignoring the suit jacket on her chair as she headed out of her 16^lh floor corner office to grab a cup of coffee. She had sent her assistant home hours ago. Unlike most of her colleagues she actually treated her staff as humans. It kept them happy and productive or at least more or less doing their jobs. Her peers couldn't say the same.

Her cell beeped as she was pouring and she reached for it flipping open the small mobile.

"Yes?" she asked returning the coffee pot and reaching for the sugar. It wasn't Starbucks but she drank worse. Regularly.

"The shipment has arrived."

"Good, start unloading, I'll be there shortly." She said snapping the phone closed and taking a deep sip of her coffee.

"Mmm. Perfect."

Alana tugged her red leather coat tighter around her as she surveyed the docks. Even in the summer it tended to get chilly by the lake. The men were moving quickly to the unload the drug shipment, they had only a few hours before sunrise.

Alana wasn't a dealer, point of fact, she hated drugs. They were just an excuse for fuck-ups. A reason and a way to run from the 'not so' niceties of life. They were a weakness. If they weren't worth so much money she would have nothing to do with them.

But, she was nothing if not a realistic capitalist. The drugs would find their way into the country one way or another, better the money was in her pocket than someone else's. Her company transported the goods from point A to point B, eliminating some of the risk on the supplier's end. The risk paid well.

Her money man had just informed her that the payment had been transferred to her account. Now she could concentrate on her own end of things. The money would be moved shortly to an offshore account in payment for a shipment of guns. The Columbian government had massacred a few rebel settlements and now had to get the guns out of the country. She was getting the weapons at rock bottom price.

Alana shook her head, the Columbian rebels paid her to transport the cocaine which they sold to buy weaponry to fight the government. The Columbian government in conjunction with their American comrades fought the rebels to get hold of the drugs and sell them to their own distributors covering up their actions by farming out the evidence to gun runners to get it out of the country. Alana sold the guns back to the rebels at just under market value with the contingent that they use her as their mode of transporting the drugs across international waters. The place was a goddamn gold mine. The 'War on Drugs' was the best thing to happen Alana and her company.

On a less global scale, the shipment in front of her meant being able to pay her people, nothing extravagant, for most of them this was secondary income. A way to buy the extra toy at Christmas or be just a little ahead on rent next month. She was sometime curious how they justified their actions to themselves. Presumably some of them felt some sort of guilt for their illegal actions.

Alana didn't.

She had long ago accepted who and what she was. Society's ideas of justice and law had never been her own. She had never attached herself to the plebian moralistic code. Her concern was ultimately herself and, as she had told Mariska, getting what she wanted. Whatever the means.

Speaking of.

Alana pulled out her phone dialing the young woman's number. It was picked up on the second ring by a surprisingly alert Mariska, it was nearly two am.

"Don't you sleep?" Alana asked in greeting.

"University students never sleep or do you not remember those days counselor?" Alana let out a quiet laugh.

"I was calling to book supper."

"At two in the morning? Don't you sleep?"

"A lawyer never sleeps, or haven't you watched Law and Order?" Alana bantered back wincing as a crate came loose of a crane and began to tip. Men began to shout and she covered the mouthpiece with a red gloved hand to prevent Mariska from hearing.

"That's right, you must be busy saving more damsels in distress." Alana smirked, at least this one had a sense of humour.

"Something like that," Alana replied motioning sharply with her hand to an approaching dock worker. He stopped in his tracks mouth shutting as he waited for her. "Listen I've got to go, I'm waist deep in work," she said looking at the crates surrounding her. "When would you like to go to supper?"

"I'm free on Thursday, say around sevenish."

"Seven on Thursday it is, I'll make some reservations and give you a call on Wednesday."

"Okay, goodnight Alana."

"G'night Mariska," Alana closed the phone adjusting her mask before signaling the dockworker forward.

"Stella," he held out the manifest. "We're missing two crates." She sighed taking the clipboard from him and scanning the document. The cargo had been accounted for at the initial pick-up. Somewhere between Columbia and Toronto it had gone missing. Likely at one of the transfers. Cuba probably.

"Get the men working in Cargo B."

"Yes Stella." She rolled her eyes as he turned on his heel and headed toward the ship. Her name wasn't actually Stella, it was the name of the organization she headed. Special Tactics Extraction and Location of Lost Artefacts. STELLA. Somehow she had become the embodiment of the name. If she had known that was going to happen she would have come up with a better name. Honestly. Stella. It was horrible.

"Oh vice thy name is vanity." She muttered as she watched her men approach. Her hand rested comfortably on the silver plated Glock strapped to her leg as the men came within shouting range. Her costume was nearly a red parody of the Guardian's. She hadn't planned it that way, she had been using this incarnation of her costume for nearly three years before she had come to Toronto just over a year ago. It was her way of ensuring her anonymity, a front company, a mask, her shields between herself and a world, specifically a woman, that wanted to bring her down.

She doubted word of her arrival had actually spread through the city. She was always careful about how hands on she was with the day to day operations. It was much easier to maneuver around people who didn't know you were there. By the time the police forces knew STELLA was in the city their operations had vanished.

"Gentlemen, it's come to my attention that we're missing some cargo. Explain." One man shrugged at her. Actually shrugged.As though he had misplaced a crayon and not three million dollars worth of cocaine. Evidently they had forgotten who they worked for. She had been too hands off.

"This," she mimicked his shrug. "Is not an appropriate answer." She pulled her pistol from her holster putting a round into his knee. "You." She turned to the next man.

"Explain."

"It wasn't us boss, damn Cubans, pulled two crates for 'taxes'," he answered looking down shakily at his moaning partner. She cursed under her breath.

"Get him and go," she ordered pointing with her pistol to the bleeding man. The manifest guy gave her a curious look.

"I thought the Cubans had been paid," he said. Alana growled low in her throat putting on the safety and holstering her pistol before she gave into her urge to go postal on her dockworker. They Cubans had been paid. Either they had raised prices without warning or some meathead had decided to get stupid and take off the top. She pulled out her untraceable phone punching in numbers.

"Get me Ferrero," she ordered the young woman who had picked up the phone. She heard soft words and a disgruntled groan before the phone exchanged hands.

"What?" The man asked in heavily accented English.

"If you don't get me those crates and I mean now I'm going to fly down there and personally put a shotgun against your nuts. No ai'guments, no excuses, I don't see them north of the 49^l by sundown tomorrow I will end your piss ant operation." She snapped the phone closed and tucked it into her vest.

"Is Ferrero the one who took them?" The man asked looking at Alana's masked visage.

"I have no idea but my guess is he's not he'll find out who is. It's all about motivation."

**

"I have no motivation for grad school at this point," Mariska said as she speared a piece of steak with her fork. "My undergrad was more than enough for now."

"And what do you plan to do with your degree?" Alana asked raising her eyebrow.

"I'm not certain yet, with a business degree I can do any number of things, work in an office or start up a store or a bar, I can do most of the accounting myself and I have a friend who's a whiz with computers."

"A bar?" Mariska nodded.

"I like the atmosphere of bars, there's something alluring about dark rooms and heavy beats," Alana looked intrigued at the answer but asked no further questions.

"So how about yourself, how did you get into law?" Alana waved her fork dismissively.

"Oh you know, too many criminal dramas, not enough ER." She said. "Can't forget my ego, it was law or surgery and I don't have the taste for digging around in someone's chest cavity." Mariska smirked wryly before taking a sip of her wine.

"You certain you're old enough to drink that?" Alana teased drawing a slight blush from Mariska.

"Yes, thank you, are you certain you can handle being up this late?" The grin that met her bordered on predatory.

"Believe me, I can handle being up a lot later than this," Alana promised taking a sip from her own wine.

"I think at some point we should test that theory."

**

"So theoretically, given his GPS records from our tracker you can isolate the areas that he might be using as fight clubs?" Mariska asked, butt parked on the edge of the desk as she faced Lucas. He massaged ointment into his knee as he nodded.

"Yes, I've narrowed it to three possibilities. And there was another abduction reported this morning."

"Fight night?" Mariska asked her partner who nodded.. No wonder Lucas had 911ed her away from her date. Alana hadn't seemed to mind stating she had mountains of work to do at any rate. They had set another date and Mariska smiled at the memory of the nearly shy kiss Alana had given her. If the redhead projected anything it had certainly never been bashfulness. It had been quite endearing.

"Hello?" Mariska started from her daydream and looked down at Lucas.

"Sorry, you were saying?"

"How much wine did you have?" I'm not sending you in the field if..."

"I'm fine," she said holding up a hand to stop his lecture. "And for the record you're not the one who gets to make that call." She said pushing off the desk to gear up. Once she was suited up, foregoing the long leather jacket for her usual blue leather vest, she headed over to her 4x4. The vehicle was just the right size for maneuvering in the sewer tunnels. The small amplifier on the back would further bolster her radio signal and enable Lucas to piggyback on any computer system within range and siphon the contents into a private server.

"Ready?" Lucas asked his voice coming loud and clear over the radio.

"Five by five Oracle. On the move." She gunned the engine the small all terrain vehicle jumping forward and tearing into the tunnels.

"This site's a dud," Mariska said as she walked around the pit. There were rows of seats above her and chain link fence separating the fighters from where the observers would be. The ring itself had been taken down. Not long ago though. Probably after the last set of fights.

"Looks like they were here recently," she bent down crumbling a piece of brick in her gloved hands. "They just pulled all the poles for the ring." She could see the rough outline of an octagon built by the poles, the cement had rubbed down where the bottom of the fence had scratched along the ground.

"Alright, the next location is two miles northeast.

"Roger that," she hopped on the 4x4 and turned toward the appropriate tunnel opening up the throttle.

"There's an increase in electrical output, I think you've got a live site," Lucas said over the comms. Mariska put on the brakes, killed the engine and stepped off the four wheeler.

"Any ideas which tunnel?" She asked quietly as she looked at the three tunnels before her.

"Go left," he advised. She did as told readying a batarang just in case someone got smart with her. She slipped past the first set of guards with ease a single batarang ping ponging between the two and knocking them out. She quickly found herself in the holding pen a large group of costumed fighters milling about as a smaller group of street kids tugged on the bars that held them prisoner.

"You!" Mariska turned at the sound of someone yelling in her direction. "You're new." She looked around taking a step closer to the costumed fighters before shrugging.

"Yeah, just in," she said.

"First round," the little man declared pushing her to the front of the line.

"Shit," she muttered as the group of four men muscled past her on the way out to the ring.

"Are you getting all of this?" She asked turning her head to capture the images of the fight club and of the watchers. They were almost exclusively well dressed types with the exception of the occasional man in a suit instead of a tux and sporting nasty pieces of hardware.

"Isn't that..."

"The newest mod of the AK? Yes. Whoever is running these has connections," Lucas said. She could hear him typing furiously in the background.

"Great, that makes me feel infinitely better," Mariska grunted as one of the costumed beefcakes shouldered her from behind. "Am I supposed to fight these guys? 'Cause it could get all kinds of messy up in here." Mariska asked as she looked around the sand covered ring. This one was considerably larger than the last site. Lucky her.

She took an instinctive step back as a spear pierced the ground at her feet and looked to see that her peers had been similarly armed.

"Oracle?"

"Hold them off, I'm going to route police to your location." Mariska's eyes widened as the beefier of the men stalked towards her.

"Oh that can't be good." He began to charge her spear upraised and waving forward and back. He was taking aim.

"Fuck me," she watched his hands waiting for the last possible moment before throwing herself to the side and out of the path of the spear. She roiled and as she did swept her own spear in a wide arc at ground level connecting solidly with the man's ankles and sending him tumbling to the ground.

The crowd around her cheered as the man landed face first in the sand. She brought her spear high overhead twisting it in her hands to bring the blunt end down across the back of his shoulders disabling him but not killing him. The crowd knew this and the thunderous 'boo' that met her actions nearly caused Mariska to jump.

Her attention turned to the other three combatants who seemed content to slug it out with one another for the moment. Mariska took her chance to scan the area eyes falling on a discrete logo painted on what seemed to be a VIP box. She pressed the auto zoom and clicked the shutter on her camera.

"Got it?"

"Affirmative, police are ten minutes away."

"From the surface or the sewer?" The lack of answer let her know. "Damn it."

"Just hold them off, you're doing fine."

"Yeah until the beefcakes remember they've got a chick half their size in the ring with them." She reasoned jamming her spear into the ground and reaching for a batarang. She could disarm at least one of them, the other two would pounce and that would buy her a couple of minutes. Her arm was upraised and ready to toss when a screech echoed through the arena.

She fought the instinctive urge to cover her ears instead turning to the source of the sound. A rusted metal door was being opened and the freshly scrubbed but poorly costumed street kids were being manhandled into the ring.

One woman clung to the side of a fierce looking brunette whose keen eyes were scanning the arena. There were six of them in all, two women and four men most of whom couldn't have been out of their teens.

It was as though a dinner bell had been rung, the remaining warriors turned on the kids feral smiles in place.

"You've got to be kidding me."

She raised her batarang letting it fly at the nearest warrior knocking his weapon from his grasp as she sprinted to front line the kids.

"What're you doing?" She heard one of the men shout. "We're supposed to fight them you idiot."

"Change of plans boys," Mariska turned to the others. "Fan out, keep moving, stay in pairs." She instructed as she settled herself to meet the next man head on. "C'mon beefy, looks like it's our turn to dance." He shrugged at her cracking the knuckles of large hands.

"Your funeral," he said stalking towards her. He swung for her head and she threw up both hands to deflect catching the brunt of it on her forearms. She dropped to one knee and drove her fist upwards connecting solidly with his groin. He dropped like a stone, tucking himself into a well muscled ball.

"I don't care how big you are, that always hurts," she said with a smirk. She thought she could hear Lucas moan in sympathy. Picking her foot up Mariska drove her boot heel into his face putting him down for the count.

She sensed the spear swinging towards the back of her shoulders and began to drop to avoid the blow. With startling speed the wielder switched directions swinging over her head and bringing the weapon under her guard and up into her gut. The force of the blow actually lifted her off her feet and Mariska grunted as she landed hard on her back.

Manska coughed trying to suck breath back into her lungs as she used her legs to push herself backwards and out of range. She rolled to the side as he swung downwards the metal tip of the blade coming dangerously close to her hooded head. She kicked upwards landing her boot on his hand hoping to get him to drop the weapon. To no avail.

He merely adjusted his grip and stabbed downwards. Manska opened her legs letting out a yelp as the spear tip landed mere centimeters from her pelvis. She kicked up wrapping her legs around the spear and reaching forward to take hold with her hands. To his credit he was a strong fucker and she didn't expect it when he picked the spear up, Manska still attached, and swung them both like a baseball bat. At the highpoint of the arc he released them sending her into the brick wall of the arena with a dull thud.

She dropped to all fours spitting out a mouthful of blood as a hand came up to feel her ribs. Definitely broken. Thinking she was finished the man turned his attention to the kids who had been dashing around the ring trying to avoid the other warrior.

They were doing a good job of it until the man, looking tired of the hunt and getting jeered by the onlookers, raised his spear and heaved it at a young man. Mariska turned her head as the teen dropped to the ground the weapon protruding from his chest. The cheer that greeted the move was disgusting in its intensity.

She reached for a batarang to take the man out and tried to raise her hand for the throw. Her ribs screamed at her in protest and when she let fly the weapon skipped across his bicep leaving a thin streak of blood along his arm but nothing else.

"Oracle..?"

"Police are making their way into the sewer. Five minutes." The men had turned on the young women now and Mariska marveled at the bravery of the brunette. She stood her ground, tall body blocking the men from the woman behind her.

"Not this time asshole," Mariska moved as fast as she was able taking a spear from the ground as she went. She lobbed it at the last man just as he reached a meaty hand toward a Bowie knife of his belt. His eyes widened in surprise as he looked to his side seeing the spear that now rested comfortably in his kidney. He fell without a sound sending up a small puff of sand as his large body connected with the ground. Mariska hated to kill but she wasn't above doing what was necessary to keep innocents safe.

"I don't believe..." she coughed painfully spitting out blood. "... 1 said I was finished with you yet," she admonished taking a step towards the man who had thrown her into the wall. His eyes narrowed and he stepped towards her only to stop as an alarm blared through the arena.

"Breach!" She heard one of the guards yell, then warning was followed by the sound of cocking weapons. Mariska looked up to see them taking aim at everyone in the ring, warriors and kids alike.

"Shit, get down!" She yelled diving for the two girls and tackling them to the side. The first spray of bullets missed them and her last opponent. He looked at her for a moment eyes blazing hatred before he ran for the exit.

"Guardian?" Lucas called out his voice nearly drowned out by the sound of automatic gunfire. The gunmen were on the move now too, ushering the patrons out the exits. Only one man remained, he stood directly above them scanning the arena for survivors. It seemed she and the women were the last.

"Go for the walls, run," she ordered pushing the girls forward as she followed. She needed to be out in the open to get a good angle to knock the weapon from his hands. The man was quick on his feet, the moment she had turned to toss a batarang his finger was already on the trigger with Mariska dead in his sights. She let the weapon fly determined to save the girls if nothing else.

The bullets connected with her vest just as her batarang knocked the weapon from his grip sending it tumbling to the sandy floor. Mariska dropped to the sand groaning in pain, it had felt like three solid hits to her sternum. He really hadn't been fucking around.

"Guardian? Guardian do you read?" Mariska closed her eyes trying to focus the chaos around her. There was so much noise. "Guardian?! Mariska answer me!" She had enough consciousness left to register Lucas had broken code. He was worried. That couldn't be good.

She felt bony hands wrap around each of her arms and her body began to move across the sand. She opened her eyes staring at the parallel trails that her boots left as she was dragged across the arena. Her head lolled back and she could see the brunette with a determined set of her jaw tugging her backwards her companion wrapped around Mariska's other arm.

She groaned as the women jostled her not expecting the quiet 'sorry' from the more demure of the two.

"S'okay," she managed to say. They were at the edge of the arena now the sand turning to stone beneath them. "Police, coming," she sputtered. "You're safe."

"What about you?" The brunette asked as they stopped and sat her up against the wall. What about her indeed. If the TPS caught her that would be the end of things. "You have to get out of here."

"Just gotta get t'my quad," she had enough in her to drive for bit. Far enough to be out of the search area anyway, Lucas could come get her.

"Where is it?"

"Not far, corner," Mariska said trying to push herself to her feet. She could barely get her butt off the ground and began to sink back down before hands wrapped around her biceps. She could hear the police now, screaming orders at the top of their lungs.

"Come on, there isn't much time," the brunette said. Mariska leaned heavily on the woman as they made their way to the quad. Mariska slumped herself in the seat leaning forward on the handlebars. "You sure you'll be alright?" She nodded weakly putting her hands on the grips.

"Thank you," she said as she turned the engine over.

"Call us even." Mariska nodded and pulled away leaving the two women standing together watching her depart.

**

"Ow," Mariska said as Lucas unzipped her vest and tried to wrest it from her body. Two slugs fell from the Kevlar landing with twin clinks on the floor. "Fucker had good aim." She said wincing as she wrangled herself out of her leather and Kevlar vests, the final bullet was imbedded tightly in the armour. Close one.

Lucas took the suture scissors from the tray cutting open her undershirt and sucking in a breath.

"You're going to be in rough shape," he said as he gently ran his hands along her side to check for broken ribs. Mariska could tell just by sight that she had broken two floaters, and the bullets had left fist sized bruises along her sternum. "Lie down, I'll dope you up while I take care of this."

Mariska nodded allowing Lucas to lift her legs onto the exam table for her and leaning back.

"I could only save two," she said regretfully as she felt the quick pinch of the needle piercing her skin.

"I know," he said quietly as he took her hand. "Better two then none," he said trying to comfort her. Mariska closed her eyes willing the tears not to come. Despite herself she felt a wet trail make its way down her cheeks from the corners of her eyes. They had been barely more than children. This was the worst part of the job. It was a simple truth, she couldn't save everyone. It didn't seem simple now.

"Get some sleep Mariska, things will look better in the morning," Lucas promised. Mariska nodded slightly allowing the sedative to work its magic.

"We have to find them," she murmured sleepily, not certain who she meant by 'them'. Things were getting murky. Thorazine was kicking in.

"We will, sleep now." Reassured by the voice of a man she had known and trusted for years Mariska slipped into unconsciousness.

**

Mariska awoke the next morning, -at least she thought it was morning, it was hard to tell underground,- feeling groggy and achy. Trying to swing her legs off the table nearly sent her into apoplexy and she decided to remain as is until she could move without killing herself. She turned her head to the side noticing Lucas was slumped in his chair head resting against his fist as he slept. She blinked owlishly as she tried to speak to wake her partner up. Sleeping sitting up wasn't a luxury he could afford anymore, his knees would make him suffer for it and he was going to be cramped as hell.

"Lu..." She coughed groaning as her ribs made themselves known. The sound was enough to wake Lucas and he stood quickly and moved towards her. He wasn't as fluid as usual, limping heavily as he favoured his left knee. It was by far the more damaged of the two. Poor guy.

"How you holding up?" He asked reaching over to check the bandages he had somehow managed to wrap around her midsection.

"Hurts," she said honestly. She remembered broken ribs. Last summer she'd had to deal with four of them. They were notoriously bad to heal, any jarring or strikes to her midsection during the bone knitting process usually meant starting at square one. It taken nearly three months to recover from the last time and even now, over a year later, they obviously weren't back up to standard.

"You're off patrol for the next couple of weeks at least," he said firmly leaving no room for Mariska to argue. Not that she had good reason too, he was right, that didn't stop her from giving in to her need to counter him just for appearance sake.

"I'll be fine in a week," she said. The indignant snort from her partner let her know he believed her about as much as she believed herself.

"Not a chance, you're grounded until these finish knitting, your ribs are your Achilles Heel and you know it." She nodded grudgingly accepting the truth of the statement. They had never been the same since last year. She could take a shot to the jaw that was unheard of for most women but a well placed strike to her lower ribs would have her nursing her midsection for days on end.

"Let's get you moved upstairs," he put one arm under Mariska's helping to slide her off the table. For her part Mariska just did her best not to pass out knowing Lucas' knees couldn't take both of their weight.

"Any idea who's setting up these fight clubs yet?" Mariska asked as the walked slowly to the freight elevator that would take them to the upper level.

"Nothing so far. I'm still running the symbol through the FBI and CSIS database."

"I've seen it before," Mariska said. "I thought it was just a graffiti tag. It's all over the city."

"Hmm, whoever is running the clubs may have more interests in the city than just kidnappings."

"Marvelous." Lucas closed the gate pushing the button to move them up.

"I don't suppose you remember when you first started seeing them?" Mariska narrowed her eyes searching her memory for the first time the symbol had registered.

"Last January is the first time I consciously remember it. I saw it at one of those skate parks," Mariska said grunting as Lucas walked them out of the elevator to the small living area they kept in the warehouse. "But I'm sure I saw it before then, I just can't put my finger one it."

"Don't stress about it," he advised. "We'll know soon enough," he sat her on the couch and walked over the blinds pulling them open and letting in the early morning sun. "Hungry?"

Mariska shook her head, the very idea of food at the moment made her nauseated.

"No thanks, can I have some water though?" Lucas nodded reaching for the crutches leaning against the table and using them to swing his way into the kitchen. Mariska sighed sadly. He never resorted to using his crutches unless the pain was starting to get intense. They were both in rough shape it seemed.

"Here you go," he said handing her a large water bottle.

"Thanks, come sit down, get the pressure off your knees," Mariska suggested shifting over slightly to give him room to sit.

"Thanks." He said with a groan reaching for the remote. "Can you believe we're only 22?" He as asked quietly as he rubbed his knees.

"Certainly hasn't felt that way for awhile," Mariska said leaning over and putting her head on his shoulder. He turned the channel finally landing on something they would both enjoy though she figured it would only be minutes before she drifted back to sleep.

This had used to be their early morning ritual when they had been a trio. They made breakfast and watched a movie to decompress. Lisa would invariably end up in the middle used as a pillow for both her best friend and her brother. They had both been so insanely protective of the younger woman, it was a cruel irony that Lisa had been the first to go down. One night, one mistake had changed everything.

Mariska sighed trying to shake off the melancholic thoughts. She knew it had been brought to the fore of her mind by the women the night before. The brunette had been damn determined to keep her companion out of harm's way. She and Lisa had been similar though the youngest of the group had never had trouble holding her own. She missed Lisa.

"I miss her too," Lucas said as if reading her thoughts.

"I know Luke, I know." Continuing in silence they watched the TV.

Mariska yawned widely as she clicked on the next image throwing it out and clicking on the one after it. The computer had identified nearly 300 near hits from her photo at the fight club and she had been wading through them one by one trying to find the tag that would identify their new friends.

"Huh," she said as the next image popped up. "Gotcha." She fidgeted in her chair trying to adjust her position to lessen the aggravation on her ribs.

"What do you have?" Lucas asked looking up from where he was repacking her parachute, the reserve had been due for its six month check. He moved over to the computer clicking on the appropriate spots to enhance the image. He motioned for Mariska to move away from the computer and let him in. He could be so territorial.

Mariska stood, hip leaning against the desk, arms crossed, as Lucas searched through the database to identify where the picture had come from.

"Damn it," he said as the appropriate file came up on screen.

"What?" Mariska asked leaning down to see. "Stella?" She asked looking at her partner with a raised eyebrow.

"STELLA," he corrected.

"What the hell kind of a name is Stella for a criminal?" She asked curiously as she bent down to scan the file.

"I don't know," Lucas said with a shrug.

"Honestly, it's horrible, doesn't exactly strike fear into the hearts of innocent Torontonians everywhere," Mariska argued. The organization obviously meant business, but Stella? Really? They weren't even trying.

"I'm aware of that," Lucas said before his eyes took on a mischievous gleam. "Didn't we know a Stella? She was married to a detective or something?" Mariska narrowed her eyes, leave it to him to bring that up.

"His name was Kowalski, it was a TV show, can we move on?" She couldn't believe he was going to harp on her now, of all times, about her childhood crush. Ass.

"Uh huh, TV," Lucas said nodding his head sagely.

"Yes TV, let's stay focused in reality, big bad super criminal invading the city," she said trying to divert Lucas' attention away from embarrassing childhood memories. Though, to be honest, it was nice to see him in a playful mood again. He had been dark and withdrawn for so long now.

"What show was that exactly?"

"Due South," she growled trying to push his hand out of the way so she could use the mouse to scroll down. "Big bad," she reminded.

Weren't you convinced the crazy little Polack and the Mountie were shacking up?"

"They were!" She said firmly her attention momentarily diverted from the screen. "They kissed!" Her authoritative cry was further bolstered by her fist hitting the desk.

"I think he termed it 'buddy breathing'," Lucas argued looking up at Mariska.

"It was a front!" She retorted then paused. "I don't know what's sadder, the fact that I'm arguing over a ten year old show or the fact that of all those episodes we watched as kids that your memory somehow locked onto the buddy breathing moment. Are you trying to tell me something?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. He realized her implication and turned back to the computer screen with a cough.

"Big bad," he said pointing at the computer screen.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," she said with a smirk as they began to peruse the file.

Stella.

Fucking honestly.

**

Mariska rubbed her eyes trying to get the grit from them as she read over the dossier Lucas had given her. It seemed Stella was actually STELLA. Special Tactics Extraction and Location of Lost Artifacts. Lost artifacts her ass. The only lost thing they ever seemed to find were federal witnesses who, having been found, were promptly lost again.

Gun running, drug smuggling, money laundering, the occasional hit. Seemed they had a finger in every pie. Of course, to give the company some degree of credibility they seemed to actually employ a couple of explorer teams. Probably just some well dressed meatheads with undergrads in archaeology who ran around robbing graves.

The moved from city to city, a small core group of underlings who employed locals once they set up shop. The group was supposedly headed by a woman named Anna Smith. That was a fake. The woman only existed on paper and it seemed the FBI and others had taken to just calling her 'Stella'. There were no visuals, not even vague descriptions. Seemed she kept herself pretty low profile. Smart. Unfortunately.

Made sense though, all things considered. You didn't build an international crime organization from the ground up without having something of substance between your ears. Mariska flipped the file closed nudging it off to the side and pulling her economics textbook to her.

With all the hubbub trying to track down the fight clubs she had been falling behind. With only two weeks until the final she couldn't afford to let things slide much longer if she had any desire to pass the course. Mariska rolled her eyes as her phone rang and reached over clicking the device on. She had told Luke she needed to study, if this was him calling about some over the top all encompassing criminal conspiracy thing she was going to brain him. And make him take her test.

"Hello?"

"Mariska?" The crime fighter smiled at the voice on the other end. Not Luke.

"Alana, hey." Perhaps Economics could wait a little longer. "I was beginning to think you had blown me off."

"Hardly," Alana answered. "Just had a bit of a crisis at work."

"Oh, that's too bad. Get it all sorted out?" Mariska asked leaning back in her recliner. She winced at the twinge in her ribs. A week later and she still wasn't up for anything more zealous than a rousing game of checkers.

"Not yet but I will," Alana answered. "I was hoping I could interest you in a quick supper, I have to come back to the office tonight so I can't spare much more than a couple of hours but I thought maybe we could hit a take out." Mariska checked her watch. Couldn't study on an empty stomach right? Right.

"Sure where did you want to meet?"

**

"I hope I didn't pull you away from anything too important," Alana said maneuvering a stick full of chow mein into her mouth.

"Nah," Mariska said with a wave of her own chopsticks. "Just an economics chapter 1 wasn't too keen on reading."

"So tell me some more about yourself. We really only had time for pleasantries last time."

"What would you like to know?" Mariska asked. It was easier to remember any lies she had to tell if specific questions were asked. 'Where did the bruises come from', 'how many concussions have you had', 'where were you a two thirty this morning' etc.

"What do you do for fun?" Mariska had to think on that one. Between school, work and her night job she wasn't exactly awash in free time.

"I uh, dabble in the martial arts, hit the gym a couple of times a week. Read non-textbooks when I can find a minute." Alana canted her head and smiled at her.

"Martial arts huh? You don't look like the fighting type," Mariska returned the smile.

"In this city everyone's the fighting type," she retorted pushing the spent box of egg rolls to the side. "How about you?"

"Oh nothing quite so exciting as martial arts. In my line of work I can't really afford to show up with a black eye. I run most mornings. My job doesn't leave me with much free time."

"And what you do have you spend eating mediocre Chinese food with a college student," Mariska supplied.

"I think I like it that way," Alana said reaching into Mariska's take out box and pulling out a chicken ball. Mariska smiled at the older woman.

"Me too."

**

"I don't like it," Lucas said as he watched Mariska tug on her freshly repaired costume. She had become fairly adept at sewing up bullet holes in over the years. Three fresh sets of stitches marked where the slugs had hit her chest. They weren't the only sets of stitches.

"Would you relax? It's been a month. I'm fine," she assured buckling up the straps over her vest and tugging her shoulder holster into place. "Look, I need to do something. I've gained five pounds from sitting on my ass for the past four weeks."

"Mariska..." She held up a hand as her phone rang smiling at the number on the caller ID.

"Hey you," she said in greeting tucking the phone into the crook of her shoulder as she pulled her gloves from her pocket and tugged them on to her hands.

"Hey, got a second?" Alana asked.

"For you, I've got two." Mariska answered double checking she had a full load of batarangs in her belt.

"Do you own a dress?"

"Uhm, sure, I haven't worn it since I was ten but I'm sure it's in my closet somewhere," Mariska answered. Alana laughed quietly.

"I was going for something a little more mature."

"In that case, no. Why? What's up?"

"I have to go to the gala next Friday and my escort backed out on me this afternoon."

"Oh, well I'd be happy to go with you but I'm not sure how well I clean up. I haven't done anything classy since prom," Mariska warned, she had a lot of scars to cover up.

"Nonsense, everyone there will be jealous that I've got you on my arm," Alana said. Her tone was so matter-of-fact that Mariska couldn't help but believe her. The woman had that affect a lot. Alana didn't offer compliments as freely as other women Mariska had dated but when she did she was so direct about it that you couldn't help but be flattered.

"Okay, well, did you want to go shopping sometime this week? I'm not really sure what I should be looking for." This thing was supposed to be filled with the who's who of Alana's firm and some high class officials. Mariska read about those types of people in the papers, she didn't socialize with them.

"Of course, how's Wednesday for you?" Alana asked.

"Sounds great." Now that the damnable Economics class had finished Mariska had found herself with more free time. It was a nice break.

"Fantastic, I've got to finish up some stuff here at the office, are you at work now?" Mariska looked around the basement her equipment spread out at her feet as she waited to finish gearing up,

"Um, more or less, just getting changed."

"Long shift, short shift?"

"Not sure yet, depends on how busy we get," Mariska said rolling her eyes at herself. It never failed that she ended up having to lie about her whereabouts.

"Well if you get finished at a decent time give me a call, I have the day off tomorrow. Perhaps we could open a bottle of wine, watch a movie?" Mariska smiled into the receiver.

"You mean actually spend some time together like regular couples do?" Mariska teased.

"Yes, I thought it might be nice to try it on for size," Alana replied, Mariska could almost see the smirk on the attractive redhead's face.

"You're on. I'll call you when I'm done.

"Bring a toothbrush and a change of clothes."

Alana closed the phone tucking it into her vest before walking back to where the men had hung one of their peers from a meat hook. Not actually on the meat hook. Not yet anyway. She shook her head at him, he seemed so out of place, well dressed, short neat hair, trimmed fingernails, all blindfolded and bound by rough rope hanging in a meat locker. His wrists had begun to chafe and bleed from the pressure of his weight, some of the droplets had actually frozen as they trailed down his arm. He really should have known better than to cross her path.

It had taken her over a month to ferret out the little traitor. He had been quietly siphoning off product for nearly a year, usually covering his tracks. Well enough that she hadn't noticed at any rate. But Ferrero's search for the missing coke had led him to her backyard where Alana had taken over. The last thing she needed was for some half rate, wanna be guerilla knowing she had leaks in her operation.

"Who've you been selling to?" She asked. He didn't answer. She wasn't certain if that was from spite or unconsciousness. She nodded at the man next him who delivered a swift punch to his kidney. The man groaned muscles twitching as he swung on the hook.

"Come on Lance, you already know how this is going to end, make it easy on yourself," she advised. Her mind was only half on the task at hand, she already knew who he had been dealing the coke to, she just wanted to hear him say it. Alana was actually more concerned about the state of her apartment. She had been in a rush this morning, she was fairly certain she had at least made her bed. Her coffee cup was definitely still in the sink.

Mariska had been over to her apartment once before, only for a few minutes, when Alana had to run up to grab her forgotten purse. More extended stays hadn't been possible because of their constantly conflicting schedules. It had been frustrating, in more ways then one, but had kept her interest in the young woman peeked. She had a habit of tiring quickly of her partners, but Mariska had proved to be somewhat of an enigma.

She seemed driven and intelligent yet hadn't developed any plans beyond graduation. She could easily work within her field while going to school but had chosen instead to wait tables and other menial jobs. She spoke often about her family and friends but never about past lovers. There was a haunted look to her eyes sometimes that Alana could never seem to place. It was sad to see a look like that in someone so young.

"Stella?" Alana looked tiredly over at Lucky, her number one muscle man.

"Kill him," she said with an absent wave. "Use the incinerator this time, I don't want him washing up on shore like the last one." That had been an expensive little cover up. It really was a shame to have to kill him. He knew his end of the business inside and out, had been with her as her contact in Toronto for a number of years. He also made good arm candy for the events she had to attend. No matter, Mariska would be a far more entertaining date.

"Hey, c'mon up," Alana said into the speaker pressing the button to unlock the door downstairs. She finished wiping her hands on the dishtowel placing it back on the oven door 'just so'. The wine was open and breathing on the counter, the lights of the large two bedroom apartment dimmed, the candles providing any extra illumination that was needed. She wasn't sure what had possessed her to go through such a grand gesture. It had been a need to see if she could remove that haunted look from Mariska's eyes. A challenge of sorts. Yes, a challenge. And she hated to lose. The young woman would enjoy herself if it killed them both.

Not literally of course. There had been quite enough of that for one night. Lance had only been the beginning, Alana had needed to rip through three more underlings who had been working with him, either by doctoring the manifests or the hiding cargo. She had taken a more hands on approach with the others. The first rule of leadership, never order your people to do what you weren't willing to do yourself. She might be a criminal but Alana did take a certain bit of pride at being good at what she did.

The sound of a soft tap on the door let her know her guest had arrived and Alana headed for the front door. She opened it to find a disheveled university student dressed in a U of T hooded sweatshirt sporting a worn looking backpack.

"You look exhausted," Alana said in greeting pulling the backpack from Mariska's shoulders and waving the young woman inside. The brunette began to yawn before stifling it behind her hand and smiling apologetically.

"Sorry, long day." Alana smiled back at her putting the bag on the ground before approaching Mariska and burying her hands in the pocket of the woman's shirt. She leaned forward dropping a kiss hello on soft lips.

"Don't worry about it, go have a seat I'll grab us some glasses." Mariska nodded stealing another quick kiss before heading over to the leather couches that were in front of a large screen TV. Alana walked into the kitchen opening the fridge to find the fruit she had bought at the market. One thing she had managed to learn was that Mariska tended to be a bit of a health nut and went for fresh berries before junk food any day of the week.

It was one of the many quirks that made the woman all the more appealing. It was odd really that Alana had found any interest in Mariska at all. Her usual types were the sleeker businesswomen or lawyers who drank expensive wines and bought three hundred dollar hand bags. People who walked in her world. Not students who took her out for bad Chinese and showed up on her doorstep in faded jeans and a loose ponytail. But she couldn't have talked for hours on end with any of those women and certainly never would have thought to cater any portion of her life to them, not even as small an allowance as going to the market to buy fruit. It was disconcerting but not altogether unpleasant.

"Do you need a hand in there?" Mariska asked her voice floating in from her position on the couch.

"No I'm good, I'll be right out," Alana said balancing the bowl full of fruit and the glasses easily in her hands. "Here you are," she handed one glass to Mariska putting the bowl on the coffee table and sitting down. The brunette's eyes immediately went to the fruit her stomach rumbling in appreciation. "I thought you worked at a restaurant, don't they feed you there?" Alana teased tucking her feet under her and looking over at Mariska.

"They would but my choices are deep fried, broiled to a crisp or going hungry," Mariska said with a smile taking a sip of her wine. "That's delicious." Alana smiled, she certainly hoped so, she had broken into the best of poor Lance's supply.

Alana was surprised when Mariska twisted in place and laid down her head resting comfortably in Alana's lap. Her wine glass rested against her stomach as she looked up at Alana. "How was your day?"

"Shit. But my night is looking up," Alana said reaching down to remove wavy brown hair from its elastic confines.

"Glad to be of service."

"Well, I was actually talking about the wine," Alana said dramatically unable to keep a straight face at the fake pout Mariska put on.

"That's not nice," Mariska declared sitting up slightly so she could take another sip of wine.

"I'm not nice," Alana stated her voice coming out more serious than she had intended. She had meant it to be a joke no matter how true the statement was. Mariska raised an eyebrow at the statement sitting up completely but not without moving tightly into Alana's personal space.

"You invited me over, opened a bottle of wine that probably costs more than my paycheck, set up all these candles and bought me fruit which, I know you hate, since you practically threw the cherry from the sundae at me the last time we went to the ice cream parlour." Mariska leaned forward her lips close enough to Alana's that she could feel the heat from the woman's mouth. "That seems pretty nice to me."

Alana closed the distance between them all thought of fruit and niceties forgotten.

**

"When you said 'do the CN tower', I thought you meant take the elevator up and go 'ooh ahh' at the pretty view. Not haul myself up a million stairs," Alana said the next morning as she followed Mariska up the steps. She had to admit it was a good view from her angle but still, the whole way up? Who the hell did that?

"Hey, you said whatever I wanted to do," Mariska countered turning back to smirk at Alana. "You can't live in Toronto for a year and a half and not have done at least some of the tourist crap there is to do around here," the younger woman argued as she continued upward.

"You're lucky you're pretty woman," Alana said reaching up to grab onto Mariska's belt and give a slight tug to get the brunette's attention. Mariska turned to look down her lips meeting Alana's. She could feel the younger woman smile into the kiss and returned it before pulling back.

"We could always go back down," Mariska suggested with a wiggling of her eyebrows.

"Ha! I did not get this far to leave without getting to be a tourist and going 'ooh ahh' at the pretty view." She walked past Mariska and headed up the stairs. "You coming?"

"Yeah, just going 'ooh ahh' at my own pretty view," Mariska answered. Alana looked down in confusion before registering the smirk on the brunette's face. She didn't usually get compliments, particularly overt ones like that. She never allowed anyone close enough to give them the liberty of making them. Given the pleasant rush the words had caused maybe she had been remiss. She reached her hand back to take Mariska's admiring the contrast between her own pale skin and the brunette's tan. Tugging the brunette even with her she began to walk again.

"C'mon, the sooner we hit the top of this the sooner we can go back to my place." Mariska grinned.

"Race you to the top?"

They hadn't raced, had actually taken the rest of the way up at a leisurely pace chatting about whatever topic happened to come across their minds. Nothing much of substance, random facts they'd heard in their travels, or stories from school or work. It had been nice and relaxed as had the lunch they had shared at the revolving restaurant. The food had been mediocre but the company had more than made up for it and Alana had found herself smiling on a near constant basis. It had been years since she had been in such a pleasant state of mind.

She and Mariska had shopped for most of that afternoon trying to locate a dress for the gala. They hadn't found anything and she and the brunette had parted company in the late afternoon so Mariska could get ready for work.

That had been three days ago. Their schedules, particularly Alana's hadn't allowed for more than a few brief conversations. There was a new shipment of weapons arriving and someone had tipped the coast guard so she had been busy trying to pay off the proper people and, failing that, finding alternate routes to transport the weapons along.

Worse came to worse she would stop the crates in New York and farm them out to a middle man she knew in Alphabet City, It would mean taking a hit in profit but better that than losing the entire shipment. Sighing, Alana looked out her window and over the lake, her work forgotten on her desk. She and Mariska were set to meet up this afternoon but she had no desire to waste an entire afternoon with the woman shopping for a dress. As pleasant as it was to watch the brunette fit her athletic form into various dresses Alana could think of other things she would rather be doing.

Reaching over to her phone she dialed her assistant.

"Cindy I need a fitting appointment with Stephen today, around two if possible." She hung up the phone knowing it was good as done. The girl could sell a steak to a vegan, if Stephen had a previously booked two o'clock it would no doubt be rescheduled shortly.

"I don't know, this seems a little... much," Mariska argued later that afternoon as Stephen pinned the dress to be taken in. Alana looked curiously over at her girlfriend.

"How so?"

'T can't afford this, you know that, so I'm assuming you intend to buy it for me," Mariska reasoned looking over at Alana.

'That would be a correct assumption yes," Alana answered standing from her chair and walking over to where Mariska was being fitted.

"That's where it seems a little much, it's only one night, wouldn't it just be better for me to look for something a little more, off the rack?" Alana ignored the insulted snort from the man kneeling next to Mariska.

"Stephen could you give us a moment?" The man nodded evidently needing a moment anyway to re-inflate his bruised ego. "Okay, what's up? You don't like the dress?" Alana asked with a raise of her eyebrow.

"No, I mean yes," Mariska rolled her eyes. "I love the dress but it's expensive."

"I fail to see your point," Alana said honestly confused. She was paying for it, why was Mariska worried about it?

"You really do," Mariska said sounding slightly surprised. "Is it really nothing to spend this kind of money for you?" Alana smiled putting a hand on the vast expanse of skin that the dress left exposed along Mariska's back and looking at the woman in the mirror.

"It's not nothing, in terms of dollars and cents it is ultimately a drop in the bucket." Alana admitted. "I'm not concerned about the money. What's important is that you're coming to this event for me. You need this dress specifically because of me, it only makes sense to buy the dress for you."

"Okay.. .But it really doesn't need to be this expensive of a dress."

"You don't even know what the price is," Alana said smiling at Mariska in the mirror.

"If it doesn't have a price tag it's way out of my tax bracket," Mariska said with a smirk. Alana smirked back, the brunette certainly did have a good sense of humour.

"Look, you've already told me you feel a little intimidated about hanging around with the people who are going to be there. I think you'll feel even more so if you show up dressed for your 'tax bracket' instead of theirs. I want you to have a good time and feel comfortable," Alana said slightly surprised to find she actually meant it. She was concerned for how the younger woman would feel being amongst the higher-ups of the political strata. And God help anyone who made the younger woman feel like she was less.

"So this is all about making me feel good?" Mariska asked as though the idea was somewhat foreign to her.

"Yes," Alana said simply, earning herself a quick kiss. Mariska had her chin in a light hold and was looking down at her with a smile. "Well that and I can't have my arm candy looking 'off the rack'," Alana said with a smirk getting a quiet laugh from her girlfriend. Mariska touched her forehead to Alalia's their noses meeting for an Eskimo kiss.

"So does your arm candy at least get to buy you supper?"

"I was thinking more of ordering in."

Mariska took in the rich decorations around her, gray eyes falling on her girlfriend about ten metres away speaking with one of the partners of her firm. The redhead was a vision in the forest green sheath that hugged her slim form. Curly hair was let to roam free falling seductively over bare shoulders. It had taken some considerable will power to actually get themselves out the door to come to the party.

Alana shook the hand of the man and turned to walk towards her deftly sweeping two fresh glasses of champagne from the waiter's tray as she passed.

"Sorry about that," she said handing one glass to Mariska and taking the empty from her hand and putting it on the table.

"No worries, I'm just admiring this place, I've never been anywhere so opulent," Mariska said her eyes going up to the crystal chandeliers overhead. "It's gorgeous."

"How about we go check out the exhibits?" Mariska nodded smiling as Alana linked their arms and led her towards the art displays. They spent the better part of an hour milling around the displays Mariska's attention focused on the artifacts that had been shipped from the amphitheatre in Rome.

"You like the gladiators?" Alana asked with a raised eyebrow. Mariska's attention had zoned in on a short blade, more a dagger than a sword, the ivory handle surprisingly well kept for being over two thousand years old. The metal, while dull, seemed to be in good condition as well.

"It's amazing," she breathed barely restraining herself from touching the glass case that surrounded the weapon. Something about it seemed to call to her.

"Alana," Mariska turned coming up from her slight crouch to stand next to her girlfriend as another tuxedoed man approached. "You haven't introduced me to your plus one." Mariska canted her head slightly to look at Alana curious at the flash of irritation that had crossed the redhead's face.

"Alexander, this is Mariska, Mariska, Alexander a. ..Colleague of mine." Mariska didn't miss the way Alana stumbled over the word colleague and immediately felt herself prep for defense.

"Pleased to meet you Mariska, it's so... rare to see 'Lana here in good company," he said smiling toothily at her as he took her hand in a limp grip. She did her best to smile back and reclaimed her hand as quickly as she thought was polite.

"I happen to think the company she keeps is just fine," Mariska defended taking a side step to bring herself nearer and slightly ahead of Alana. His smile dimmed a little and he turned his attention back to Alana.

"I hear you lost the Milton case, looks like your slipping a little 'Lana." Mariska spared a glance at her girlfriend who had adopted the steely glare that had been Mariska's first impression. She hadn't seen that look since the coffee shop nearly two months ago. "Hope that promotion isn't going to your head." Whatever retort Alana had in store for him died on her lips as the MC for the night took the stage. Hoping to defuse the situation, Mariska took Alana's hand pulling the lawyer away from her rival and toward the crowd that had begun to gather around the speaker.

"I'm sorry about that," the redhead apologized looking over at Mariska. The brunette squeezed her girlfriend's hand lightly.

"Don't worry about it, I'm a big girl, 'sides why else did you bring me here except to run defense?"

"Because when I'm with you everything is more fun," Alana said absently as she looked over the crowd. Mariska smiled and turned her attention to the speaker.

**

Alana sipped slowly at her champagne watching as Mariska wove her way through the crowd toward the restroom. The speaker had finally finished up and the crowd had dispersed once more to go back to their drinking and gossip.

The night had gone relatively well so far, there hadn't been any major run-ins with any of her peers from work. Even the little scuffle with Alexander had barely registered. What did stand out in her mind was Mariska's immediate defense of her. It had seemed almost automatic the way she had stepped slightly in front of Alana as if to shield her from the verbal barbs being tossed her way. She had been scowling on the outside but inwardly... inwardly Alana had felt a part of her touched that hadn't been in years.

And her own comment afterward, she hadn't meant for that to be said out loud. Her surprise at herself had almost made her miss the pleased smile Mariska had thrown her way. Seemed they both had surprises tonight.

Sighing and wishing she could just enjoy the night for what it was, but knowing that she couldn't, Alana wandered over to the displays. In two weeks time the current exhibition would be moved out and another, involving some priceless pieces of Egyptian history would be moved in. STELLA didn't usually make a habit of heisting museums but on occasion, when the price was right and she was feeling the need to get back to her roots, she would take on a job.

It was unlikely the security setup would be altered between now and then and Alana had been using the gala as a cover to explore the museum and its security measures. She could see the discrete flashes of the security cameras, some well hidden among the shimmering chandelier others, others not so covertly placed on the marble pillars.

She made a mental note of each one planning her angle of attack. Taking out the cameras would be first priority before an entrance could even be attempted. There were a number of ground crews patrolling the area, it seemed entry and exit from above was her best bet at the moment.

She took calculated steps between each podium taking a few moments to converse with her peers along the way all the while keeping careful count of how far it was between pillars. Once she was beneath one of the decorative skylights she began to survey the various angles to the displays. She wasn't certain which area the actual artifact would be in so would have to plan for all possibilities. She didn't want to carry more rope than would be necessary, the extra weight would be a hindrance, but she also wanted to limit her time actually on the ground. There tended to be nasty surprises once you actually set foot on the floor, laser grids, pressure plates, motion sensors.

Alana could see the motion sensors themselves set at just above camera level. So long as she could remain above that height, maybe use a thin line to reel in the artifact, she would have a chance. Assuming of course, she could get into the glass with her laser pendulum. It had a tendency of going on the fritz at the most inopportune moments. Fifty feet of rope for the downward angle would likely be enough from any point in the room.

"Perfecto," she said quietly as her gaze swept across the room.

"What's perfect?" Mariska asked as she placed a light hand on Alana's back. The redhead turned her attention shifting quickly from one thought track to the next.

"You, in that dress," she answered easily as she took the tanned hand that had come to rest on her hip and dropped a kiss onto the palm. "How are you enjoying yourself?"

"It's great, I've never seen art like this, it's a little rich for my blood," Mariska said with a self deprecating shrug.

"Hey," Alana tugged on the hand she still held. "You know enough to know that money doesn't make the man, I'd choose your company over any other in this room." She didn't like that the young woman felt inferior to these people. She had been told the same all through her childhood, that she would never be worthy of sitting in company like theirs. She had proved everyone wrong, sat in their company, and found it lacking. While the people she had grown up with had been passionate, about life, about their jobs, about their loves, these people seemed apathetic to nearly everything. Fake smiles and shallow friendships. Their golden world shimmered brightly but in the end it was all pyrite, fool's gold.

"Really?" Mariska asked still looking uncertain. Alana shook her head, the young woman was generally so confident. It seemed odd that she would let a situation like this trouble her.

"Really," Alana assured. She took one last look around satisfied that over the course of the night she had gleaned all she would need to make a respectable plan of attack. "Come on," she said tugging Mariska towards the coat check. "I believe there's some wine and blueberries calling our name."

##

Mariska shrugged out of the dress laying it carefully over the bed in Alana's spare room. It had been an... interesting night. Going to a high class gala dressed in a gown that would have cost her at least a month's pay. She had felt like a princess, particularly when Alana had turned forest green eyes on her. But as she had spoken to more people, heard how they spoke, she couldn't help but feel somewhat out of place. Sure she had a degree, or nearly so, from a reputable university, but these people had informal education that would never allow her to walk in their world. Mannerisms, subtleties that left her feeling as though she were some sort of country bumpkin trying to address the Queen.

She had never felt particularly rough, she had grown up lower middle class, went to a decent high school, taken out loans for college like all of her friends and her siblings had done. The people at the party were those who had driven past her soccer fields in the Lexus' and slept their way through college because they hadn't paid for class and could look forward to a job in the family business regardless of their performance.

Next to them she had felt like the blue collar raised woman that she was. Superhero or no, when she was out of costume she was a twenty two year old college kid. One who happened to be dating a rather prominent, well off divorce lawyer. What did Alana even see in her? It wasn't as though she knew about her night job. The dozens or hundreds of people that she had helped over the years. All Alana saw was the kid in jeans and a sweatshirt.

"I just don't know," she muttered to herself running a hand along the satiny fabric of the dress.

"Don't know what?" Alana asked. Mariska turned surprised that the woman had managed to sneak up on her. Her senses were usually better attuned than that.

"Why I'm here, why you're with me," Mariska said honestly. "It's not like I have a lot of offer you. I mean in the beginning I figured it was I don't know, something fun, but now I'm... and you're..." Mariska gestured helplessly as she tried to articulate what she wanted to say. University graduate indeed, she was certain most of the people at that party could string together a sentence. Even in emotionally charged terrain. Hell those people probably didn't even wander into emotionally charged terrain. Maybe they had something.

"Hey," Alana pulled her forward resting warm hands on bare biceps. The pads of her thumbs rubbed gentle patterns across Mariska's skin and she shivered as goosebumps lined her arms. She leaned forward tucking her head into the crook of Alana's neck as the redhead wrapped lean arms around her. "I'm with you because you're not like them, because you mean it when you smile. Because no one else has brought me soup when I was sick."

Mariska laughed a little bringing her arms up to rest on Alana's hips.

"Honestly, I don't know what it is," Alana said her lips close to Mariska's ear. "I just know that whatever this is, whatever we are, I want it. I want you." Alana rubbed her hands up and down Mariska's back and she sighed into the light touch. "I don't care what they think Mariska, never have." Alana reached down tilting Mariska's chin up with her forefinger. "Your opinion of me matters, not theirs."

Mariska smiled turning to kiss the palm of the hand that was now gently cupping her face.

"I happen to have a pretty good opinion of you," Mariska said returning to her resting spot at Alana's shoulder. "Sorry about the bout of super insecurity, I'm not usually like this," Mariska said her mind trying to recall when she had last felt quite this unsure of herself. It had been on the first time after Lisa's death that she had put on the costume and taken on her Guardian persona. She had looked down on the city she had chosen to protect and wondered if she had any right to make such a decision.

The wind had been strong, threatening to take her off the roof if she made a misstep, part of her had hoped it would. Her depression had nearly drowned her in those first few weeks after Lisa's death, Lucas had been too injured to even act as radio back-up. She had been, for the first time, well and truly on her own. She would live or die by her own abilities and she had worried that she would come up lacking. It had been a few moments of utter terror as an unexpected gust caught her off guard and carried her off the rooftop to the ground below.

She hadn't even thought, reacting on pure gut instinct, calmly pulling her grappling gun from its holster, sighting a holding point, taking aim and firing. She knew the shot was good the moment it left the gun and merely waited for the line to catch her and swing her forward parallel to the flow of traffic below. If one had looked from the streets it would have seemed she had planned the entire motion. As she swung herself to the next ledge, hundreds of feet above the unknowing populace her fears, her doubts had disappeared. No matter what her emotions, her instincts, her body knew the routine, knew the job too well to let her fail.

She wished she could find that ledge now, find that gust of wind that would send her over the edge and prove that she could catch herself on the way down.

"I'm ready for bed, how about you?" Alana asked. Mariska nodded allowing the redhead to pull her from the room and the dark thoughts that seemed at constant threat to consume her.

**

Mariska surveyed the rooftops debating which would be the easiest to jump to from her current position. She was high atop one of the downtown office towers her bino's in place searching for any signs of trouble. The city had been quiet tonight, too quiet for her liking given the day she'd had. Crime had seemed to slow to barely a trickle these last couple of weeks. She hadn't minded most of the time, it meant being able to devote more time to Alana. Tonight however, she had been hoping for the opportunity to kick some ass.

Mariska had been on edge all day, nearly snapping poor Luke's head off when she had entered the basement to gear up for patrol. Things had started out well enough, she had spent the night over at Alana's, -only the second time this week, she hadn't wanted to start stepping too rapidly into the older woman's space,- which meant she woke up to the redhead. Always a bonus.

The woman had actually already gotten out of bed and showered and was occupied drying her hair when Mariska finally managed to kick off the covers and resolve herself to getting up. She absolutely detested mornings.

"Morning," she had said dropping a quick kiss at the base of Alana's neck. "Want me to get coffee started?"

"No, I've actually got to rush, I've got an early meeting that slipped my mind," Alana said turning slightly to give Mariska a proper kiss. "Are you working tonight?"

"When am I not?" Mariska had said with a roll of gray eyes.

"You know, if you found something in your field, I'm certain you could make more money with quite a few less hours." Mariska had shrugged knowing it was true, but that wouldn't allow her the freedom to move shifts, call in sick or quit on command so she could go do her other job. The one that mattered. A straight 9-5 would mean giving up parts of her life that she just wasn't ready to part with.

"I like what I'm doing."

"I know, I'm just saying, the longer you sit without using your degree the harder it is to get a job," Alana had said turning back to the mirror to finish her hair. "I'm certain you don't want to be a waitress forever." Mariska dropped her hands from Alana's hips taking a small step back.

"What if I did?" Alana had turned with a small smirk and raised eyebrow.

"Come on Mariska, you're too smart to just let yourself sit and wait tables all day, think of what else you could be doing, owning a business like you said. No bank will give a loan out to a college graduate swimming in debt who's working minimum wage at a pub or chip house."

Mariska knew Alana was right, she did have goals beyond the Guardian. She wouldn't be able to be on the streets forever, and she didn't want to wait until her body started to fail her before starting up on her life. But, for now, she was happy with where she was.

"I like doing what I'm doing, when I stop liking it I'll change," Mariska had defended.

Alana had shrugged.

"That's fine for now Mariska, but how long do you think it's going to be fun for? You need to start thinking about the future and not be so caught up in the now." Mariska hadn't had an answer for that. She couldn't give one without revealing her other self and then had felt put out because she didn't feel she had to justify the way she lived. Nothing overtly of