No Fate


elisabeth2_icon.gif lola2_icon.gif

Scene Title No Fate
Synopsis …but what you make. Lizzie's tired of being Fate's bitch.
Date Nov 16, 2010

Red Hook

Once Abby was settled in at Redbird, Elisabeth spoke to Peyton briefly and then left the building. Not running into Cat again at that moment was a damn good thing, because the fact that Cat even bothered to raise the paranoid 'the Ferry might blame Abby' angle to the terrified ex-healer just has Liz in a complete rage. She stalked for about two blocks before heading into the subway to take it to Red Hook — she and Lola don't speak until they're in the worst parts of town.

"Lola, come on out and talk to me," she says quietly, knowing the other woman is close enough to hear in case of trouble. Jamming her hands into her jeans pockets, the blonde looks beyond wiped out by this point. Her anger has run its course and left her merely drained.

All is quiet around Elisabeth for a moment before, from a lovely, dank and ratty Red Hook alley, Lola steps out. She is wearing much the same as she has been of late - tactical gear. She's always on the job. Her faux red hair is down as she lights a cigarette, brushing her hair back to remove the cancer-stcik from her lips and exhale. "Ya alright, sugar? Didn' look like ya had much trouble from the outside." But then, Lola didn't venture into Red Bird, so she doesn't know what happened there.

Her steps are easy as she walks toward Elisabeth, nodding toward one of the buildings. "Lets at least stop standin' in the middle a the street, hmm?" Her constant concentration for the past week has been Liz, Liz, Liz. Liz and her safety.

It's disconcerting to have a woman like Lola following her, but there's one thing Liz does know about the Cajun…. and that's when she gives her word on something, she tends to follow through. And there are definitely incentives that will seal the deal. She steps into the alleyway with Lola, glancing around warily. They make a cute pair of targets for sure. Leaning back against the brick wall, she speaks briskly in that vaguely rough voice that's recovering from laryngitis. "I've got some things for you. First… a paycheck. Since I don't have a clue who to fuckin' make a check out to for a real honest-to-God paycheck, it'll be cash. You show up at Redbird on Monday mornings and pick it up from Jo, the receptionist."

There's a pause and Liz continues. "Second, I want you to go to the Speakeasy and pick up a bag of belongings from Room 431." She holds out the key. "Take this with you, and turn it in at the desk on your way out." Her blue eyes hold a stern look. "I know exactly what's in the bag, down to the last item and penny. Nothing better be missing. Take it to Jo at Redbird this afternoon, please."

She waits a beat, and then Liz gives her the last thing. "I need you to put your ear to the ground for me and start listening to what's on the streets regarding the raids that happened on November 8. Several Ferrymen safehouses got hit, and there is some concern that Abigail Beauchamp is a target. If you hear of anyone looking for her, Cat Chesterfield, or any of Richard's associates, I need to know immediately. And yes — I realize that this will take you away from hovering over my person, but…. it's important." She grins a bit. "I won't leave the building without letting you know."

Lola takes the key from Liz, letting it slip between her fingers as she turns it over her knuckles in an idle gesture. The cigarette is held neatly between her lips as she looks over the key, listening to her new instructions. "Sure," she finally agrees. "Don' sound all that hard. Runnin' a couple a errands and the like." She removes the cigarette with her other hand and exhales, looking over Liz with a curious eye. "Didja find out anythin' bout the fellah Ah done popped? Sorry Ah shot 'im in the face - sometimes it's real easy ta forget how good Ah am - Ah gotta focus more ta miss than Ah do ta hit."

"No, I didn't," Elisabeth replies. "And unless we get fingerprints, I probably won't. If he's still there and you want to attempt that, go for it. If not…. I have my suspicions. I can't act on them yet." Unless it's to slap the face of a certain lantern-jawed someone. But she's unwilling to twig them onto her suspicions right now. "If they try for me again… miss," she says quietly. "Because I'm going to let someone else mindrape their asses for the information I want."

Lola blinks a little, her dark eyes slowly moving up to Elisabeth's face. And then she sighs. The hand with the cigarette between her ring and middle fingers point at Liz. "Ah've got an idea. But Ah ain' gonna share it with ya unless ya promise me, promise me Ah get what Ah want with it. If ya steal mah stuff, law-lady, you an Ah's gonna have some problems. If ya kin agree ta that, would ya like ta hear mah idea?"

Elisabeth looks perplexed. "What the fuck would I want with your shit, Lola, when I'm about to pay you an obscene amount of money to keep my ass from getting dead?" she asks in a befuddled tone. "Tell me."

"Ah done toldja, sugar." Lola puffs away at her cigarette, it is quickly getting smaller. "Ah took his rifle. If ya check it fer prints ya probably won' find none, unless ya check on some a the insides, where he may a touched it while cleanin' it or takin' it apart and not wiped it down afore he went out. Course, if he didn' wipe 'em down, it means he's less pro than he seemed. If he did? Then he really is a pro an there'll prolly be another one hired."

Lola quickly adds, "But if we do this, Ah get mah new rifle back."

Oh! Elisabeth's eyebrows shoot to her hairline. "I don't need to take it. Bring me the ammo it's loaded with, the slide, and the sight," she says, finally following Lola's train of thought. "I have a fingerprint kit. If there's something there, I can pull it myself and we'll run it." She grins, the weariness on her face easing just a little with the expression. "Damn, woman — you're smarter than you act." It's meant as a compliment. Her blue eyes are cool in spite of the expression, though. "There will be another one," she adds softly. "I think when they found out that you wouldn't be taking the shot, they sent the other sniper…. and I think it's possible that for some reason they think it's important to the future that I'm not here to do something. So there will be another one."

Lola grins, that mischevious grin that usually means she's about to get in trouble. The cigarette, now just a butt, is tossed down and snuffed out with the toe of her shoe. "Well Ah spoze it's real fortunate for you an' yer future little terror-babies or whatever it is ya do that's got so many panties in a twist that there ain' nobody as good as me, darlin. Leastways, not in shootin."

That comment brings a strange, unhappy expression to Elisabeth's face, as if something just occured to her. He wouldn't dare. As if unable to help herself, Elisabeth looks back toward the street, pure rage once more lancing through her. We had a son, he'd said. Only now do the implications hit her. Her eyes close for a long moment. And when she looks back at Lola, her face is under control once more. "The next one that tries for me, you fucking gut shoot and make sure he winds up in my hands alive, Lola." Her tone is hard. You wanna play hardball with me, you fucker, you're messing with the wrong woman's future. I'm tired of being Fate's plaything.

Lola nods a little. She slips the key into her pocket. "Sure thing, sugar. Why doncha step inside here an Ah'll get ya those peices for ya ta have all sorts of nerdy, dusty, powerdy fun with?" And with that, Lola slinks back into the shadows assuming Liz will follow. Creepily enough, the last thing seen before the shadow falls across her is her grin, like some crazy fucking Cheshire Cat.

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