Allie was standing in Jenny's kitchen, having coffee at her counter, while Jenny sat at the kitchen table and sipped her own cup. Allie was staring nervously ahead at the fridge, taking in all the magnets and various snapshots of Jenny's life that she had posted up there for the world to see. All of this, of course, wasn't exactly a decision spurred by her curiosity to know Jenny any better, as much as it was a way to distract herself from the day ahead of her. After a bit of quiet, she looked towards Jenny, who just smiled at her.

"Are you doing okay? You seem...particularly zoned out this morning," Jenny said.

"I'm alright," Allie replied, "yeah, I'm just...thinking about what I've got to do today."

Allie walked across the kitchen and seated herself opposite Jenny at the table, taking another few minutes to drink coffee, let it warm her up. She rarely drank coffee, but today she felt like she was going to need the extra energy. As they sat in momentary silence, Allie thought back to the photos hung on the fridge, and wondered if Jenny even still knew any of those people. Allie certainly didn't recognize them, and they were all photos taken before the accident, years before, when Jenny was much younger. Did Jenny still have these people in her life and if not, when did they leave? Would it happen to Allie too? Would she one day simply be nothing more than a photographic memento on somebody's fridge without actively being in their life anymore? The thought scared her. She finally looked up from her mug at Jenny, who smiled at her.

"Busy day ahead of you?" Jenny asked.

"You have no idea," Allie mumbled.

                                                                             ***

"What does one wear to a heist?" Benny asked, "is it a formal occasion?"

"You ask like I do this on a regular occasion, this is my first one," Molly responded.

She and Benny were in the bedroom getting dressed as Olivia was in the attached bathroom doing her makeup. A knock rang out from the front door and Olivia went to answer as she started putting in her earrings. As she passed by and into the living room, Molly turned and watched, then glanced at Benny.

"Is it normal to be scared right now?" she asked.

"I'd say it'd be weird if you weren't," Benny replied, "but hey, we designed this thing together, we know the ins and outs, we have a distraction set up, everything will go smoothly okay? Trust me. Do you trust me?"

Benny took her hands in his and pulled them to his face, kissing them softly, making her blush. She nodded quietly, acknowledging that, yeah, she did. In fact, she probably trusted him more than anyone else in the world these days. Nobody had ever been so respectful, understanding, compassionate. Allie - and by some extension Zoe - had lied to her, and they were friends, sure, but that came with a big asterisk attached to it now after the shitshow they'd dragged her into. Otherwise Benny and Olivia were it. Olivia came back into the room and headed back to the bathroom.

"She's here," she said as she passed by and shut the bathroom door behind her.

"Good morning," Allie said, standing in the doorway of the bedroom, "...are we ready?"

"How ready is ready, exactly?" Benny asked, "where's everyone else, is anybody else even here yet?"

"Claire's on her way, Salem and Rufus are meeting us at the casino, and as for Zoe, I couldn't tell ya where she is but she isn't coming in with us, so. She's already done so much for us anyway in regards to this that I wouldn't ask her to do more, as it is. She can happily sit this one out," Allie said.

"...Claire is coming in with us?" Molly asked, sounding nervous.

"Yeah, she...kinda demanded it," Allie said, sighing, shrugging, "Molly, don't worry, she isn't a threat to us. If anything, she needs us, desperately. Our exclusion of her would make her a threat to us. As it stands right now, everything's at an agreeable stalemate, and frankly I'm fine with that. Besides, I'll be there, and I won't let her hurt anyone even if she tried, which she won't, okay?"

Molly nodded hesitantly, then went back to getting dressed. Olivia came back out from the bathroom and stopped looking at everyone, hands on her hips, now fully dressed in her uniform. For a moment nobody said a word, and then Olivia exhaled.

"Welp," she said, "I'm going to work. I'll be clear across town. Please be careful, both of you."

"We're just breaking into a casino vault, what's the worst that could happen?" Molly asked, pulling her shoes on while standing. Olivia and Benny laughed as Olivia leaned in, kissed Benny on the cheek, then leaned the opposite direction and planted a kiss on Molly's head, making her blush. With that, she walked towards Allie, still in the doorframe, and stopped again.

"...don't lose them," Olivia said sternly, and Allie smiled, nodding.

"I won't, don't worry," Allie said. Olivia nodded in responded, then headed past her. Once they heard the front door shut, knowing she was out of earshot, Allie turned back to the others and continued watching them get ready before checking her watch. They were supposed to meet Rufus and Salem at the casino anytime now, but...where the hell was Claire?

                                                                          ***

"Are you nervous?" Claire asked, standing outside a deli across the street from Jackson's performance space, the two of them each eating their own sandwiches. Jackson chewed, swallowed and nodded. He waited a moment to reply, thinking about how exactly to put it, and finally sighed before speaking as Claire lifted her sandwich up to her face and took another bite while he did so.

"I'm always nervous before stuff like this but not...not really for the reasons you might expect," he said, "uh...not because I don't think I can't do it, because I know I can, I'm well aware of my skill level and I designed the damn thing, but moreso because I don't want to disappoint people, you know? It's a tightrope of being a performer; escape too fast and they're upset, stay in too long and they get bored. People want excitement. They want drama. I just want to give them a good, safe show."

Claire grinned as she chewed, listening. Jackson leaned against the brick building and took a sip of his soda, licking his lips afterwards.

"Either way," he said, "I know I'll be good, and I know it'll be good. I just hope everyone else thinks the same."

"I'm sure it'll be a day they don't forget," Claire said, patting him on the arm, making her chuckle. Jackson was never nervous around women, but something about Claire...something about her really got to him. He couldn't help but be a little nervous around her. She was so headstrong, so forward, but so soft and comforting. A deadly combination for a man of his ego, honestly, and she knew this, which made her deadly as well, not that that was news to anyone. Claire looked back towards the box, being lifted into the air now, testing it's ability to hang just once before the event. She smiled to herself, taking another bite of her sandwich.

When all is said and done, she thought, she knew two things would be true. The first was that what they were about to do today would be the talk of the town, and the second...well, the second was that nobody would ever forget who Jackson Strange was.

"I have to get going," Claire said, checking her watch, "I have an appointment."

"Are you coming back for the show?" Jackson asked, and Claire nodded.

"Of course, wouldn't miss it for the world," she said, "break a leg."

As he watched her walk off, Jackson felt this gnawing in the pit of his stomach. He'd long since avoided getting involved with women on any sort of romantic level, but this woman...this woman he just couldn't get out of his head. Claire, of course, was just using him. She didn't care about him one way or the other, which only made what was about to happen that much easier on her conscience. But Jackson had fallen hard in just the short time they'd known one another, and he was excited to see her at the event that night. Little did he knew she'd be deep down in a casino vault...holding a gun.

                                                                           ***

Raindrop was sitting at the bar in the casino.

She was thinking about her night out with Zoe, about how she hadn't drank that much in ages, and how it'd really gotten her thinking again about her life, her choices, her anger at the people who felt she was below them - more often than not the very clients she sought to represent - and how sick of it all she was. She was drinking again now, and it was only 1pm in the afternoon. She needed to get herself back in check, because this simply couldn't continue. A stool scooted out from beside her and she turned her head to see Zoe sitting on it.

"I've been looking everywhere for you," Zoe said.

"You have? That's...weirdly sweet," Raindrop replied, "for what reason?"

"Well, there's two magicians showing up today to do an impromptu flash performance in the main hall," Zoe said, "figured, as the insurance lawyer, you might be inclined to check it out. You know, safety and all that. Are you okay? You're drinking kinda early in the day."

"Why not," Raindrop said sullenly, shrugging, "I mean, really, why not. What fucking difference could it make, honestly. These people will never face consequences for their actions, they're all criminals on one level or another, and I'm the one who has to cover it all up, defend their despicable beliefs to a justice system that's so flawed that it wouldn't convict them even with the right amount of evidence."

"You're not, like, a regular lawyer though," Zoe said, "how often do you actually go to court?"

"Often enough, and besides, I'm still hiding things for them, doctoring information. Just once, just one goddamn time, I want things to be about ME, I want people to remember ME. I'm sick of being everyones fall guy," Raindrop said, finshing her drink and plopping the mug down onto the bartop, adding, "I want what's coming to me after a lifetime of essentially indentured servitude."

Zoe nodded. She actually understood how Raindrop felt. Between being controlled then abandoned by her parents, protected yet used by Allie, she really did see where Raindrop was coming from and how she could feel so extremely frustrated. Zoe sighed.

"Well," Zoe said, "maybe one day that chance will come, and maybe one day the universe will course correct itself and they'll get what they deserve, but until that time, you have a job to do, right? Those guys will be starting their performance anytime now. You should probably get out there."

"I guess so," Raindrop said, standing up from the stool and wobbling a bit, clearly somewhat drunk. As Zoe watched her toddle off to the main hall, where the car on the pedastal was displayed, she couldn't help but feel remorse. Here was, much like Molly and Benny and so many others, yet another innocent - well, in this instance somewhat innocent - bystander they'd duped into being remotely involved in their dark dealings, and look how it had affected her now. Zoe understood the need for the deceit...but that didn't mean she liked it.

After a few minutes, Zoe herself climbed off her stool and went to join the others in the back lot where they'd gathered. There she found Allie, Molly, Benny, Rufus and Salem, but surprisingly, still no Claire, much to Allie's chagrin at this point. As she stumbled into the group, she could hear them loudly chattering about something, somewhat heatedly, but wasn't sure what. Zoe stood a bit aways, to keep her sanity for the moment, as she watched. After a minute, a car pulled into a space beside her and parked, Claire climbing out of it and walking up beside her, stopping.

"Quite the little ragtag team we've assembled here, isn't it?" she asked.

"How is this possibly going to work?" Zoe mumbled.

"Well that's the allure of magic, isn't it?" Claire asked, grinning, putting a hand on her shoulder, "you get to wait and find out."

                                                                            ***

The thing is...it wasn't even a break in. Molly had the keys. She had designed the thing, after all.

All they really had to do was stay somewhat incognito, black out cameras where they saw them along the way - Claire's doing - and get in and get out. Allie, being a prominant part of the casino, also wouldn't be bothered for being down here either, if they were stopped, because who was going to argue with Tony's top draw entertainer? Really, this group was in the clear from the get go. The issue was getting back out, which, thankfully, wasn't going to be difficult. Between the tricks Molly and Benny had learned from Strange's glass box design and Benny's overall knowledge of sleight of hand, they had a clear cut way out through a hollow section of wall, which came as inspiraton from Claire's crimes. Everyone had, whether they knew it or not, come together to make this as simple and viable a thing as possible.

The ones who had it somewhat rough...were Rufus and Salem.

Up in the main hall, watching the car spin around on the pedastal from a distance, Salem himself couldn't understand how he'd come this far. Just a few months ago he'd been approached by these people for information, and now here he was, attempting to help them steal a car? From a casino, no less? Wild. Rufus adjusted his tie and his cape, as Salem nervously twitched at his beard, stroking it casually with his fingertips. He knew the plan. They'd gotten it all set up. A curtain would come up around the car, fully engulfing it away from the audience, and then the pedastal would detract down into the floor, taking the car with it, where it would be moved by Salem's wife before the pedastal raised back up, and they drove the damn thing out of the back of the building from the underground. Plain and simple. Didn't make him any less nervous though, honestly.

"You doin' okay, kid?" Rufus asked, and Salem shrugged, shaking his head.

"That's a real loaded question," he replied.

Rufus laughed, slapped him on the back, and together they walked towards the car, ready to make the casino goes gasp. Watching a bit from afar was Raindrop, keeping a keen eye on what was happening. She knew impromptu flash performances such as these took place all the time, that wasn't out of the ordinary, but still...something about this made her anxious in her gut. Course, that could also be all the alcohol. A sizeable crowd soon gathered to witness the act, as Tony himself stopped beside Raindrop, watching, eating a burrito in a foil wrap.

"What's this all about?" he asked. Raindrop glanced up at him, confused.

"Wait, you...you didn't authorize this?" she asked, and he shook his head, chewing, watching. Now that awful feeling made sense. Something was wrong with this. As the act came to a close and the car pedastal raised back up, the car gone, both Tony and Raindrop stood there aghast...what had just happened? Tony turned, storming off in a different direction, looking for answers, while Raindrop started to approach Salem and Rufus when she was stopped by Zoe.

"What the hell did they do with the car?!" she shouted, and Zoe held her by the shoulders.

"...you wanna get back at these people? The people you claim to hate? Now is your chance," Zoe said.

A pause, as they locked eyes.

"I'm listening," Raindrop said.

Meanwhile, the group had reached the vault door. While Molly fumbled with the keys, Claire and Allie watched down the hall together in a sort of daze. Honestly, despite their rather sturdious dispositions, neither one really could believe they were currently doing what they were doing. They were completely phased. Claire looked at Allie and cleared her throat.

"I visited Raymond Sykes," Claire said, and Allie looked at her, her eyes wide; Claire nodded and continued, "I went to him, disguised as the unknown and abandoned daughter of one of his business associates, and we spoke. He gave me information. Told me about my 'dad', if you will. I can continue gathering more, and you can take it all and hand it right on over to the agents. I just want one thing. My freedom. I want a cut of whatever is in this vault, and I want to leave town, for good. Are we understood, is that clear? I'll be out of your life forever."

Allie shook her head slowly, mouth slightly agape.

"Who the hell are you?" she asked, whispering, making Claire smirk.

"I'm the answer to all your prayers, sweetheart," Claire replied.

"It's a good thing Tony opted for old time lock and key instead of those identifying key cards," Benny said from behind, "probably because he doesn't want his own activity traced back to it if it's discovered, but it's certainly working in our benefit, that's for sure."

The door swung open and the group headed inside and...well...what they saw...

...it definitely wasn't what they expected.

                                                                              ***

Jackson couldn't see her.

He was scanning the crowd for her face, but he couldn't see her. Why was he so hung up on this girl that he'd met a few times? How had she so successfully wormed her way into his psyche? He was crazy about her. He sighed and shook his head as he approached the box, putting a hand on it. Showtime was in scant minutes, maybe she was just running late. He stepped inside the box, looked at one of the assistants, and whistled, an audible indicator for them to begin raising it into the sky overhead the crowd, crammed between these two buildings. As he was lifted up, the crowd below cheered, clapped, whistled, and he smiled. Even in spite of her absence, nothing would ruin this day for him. He'd spent months preparing for this.

And then the box shifted, and he stumbled, catching himself, breathing hard. Had they hit the side of a building? The creaking, the sound of metallic grating on something. Jackson looked around, unsure where the noise was originating from. Until he saw it.

One of the chains holding the box to the lift in the air was breaking. It was loose. His heart caught in his chest, and he thought back to the woman. She'd been so interested, come about so suddenly, wanted to appreciate the box with him. She'd gotten him right from the start. She'd done this. And indeed Claire had. Claire had sneakily damaged the chain so that it would snap while Jackson was high in the air, and there was nothing he could do about it because the people down below, the people working for him, didn't even know it. For all they knew, everything was going fine. And that's when the reality really sunk in. Jackson looked down at the crowd again. Children. The elderly. Young couples. All within striking distance of shattering glass. His heart began to race. No. The one thing he didn't want, his audience being harmed, that was the worst part.

He'd trusted her. He'd always been so trusting of women because he'd always been so charming, so easily able to get their attention, that he never once thought a woman might have it out for him. The chain snapped more, and Jackson steeled him for the inevitable. The glass box was going to fall, people were going to be hurt, and he could very well die. He scanned his brain for anything she might've said, anything she might've done that would stick out to him, but she'd been nothing but encouraging and supportive and interested. Were those crimes, really? Jackson started breathing hard and fast, and then he realized the biggest thing of all, she hadn't been interested in him...she'd been interested in the box.

The chain snapped.

Jackson could feel himself falling through the air freestyle inside the box as it plummeted to the ground, the crowd below screaming in sheer panic, shoving one another, trampling eachother to try to escape the hit zone. But it didn't matter. The thing shattered hard, taking other innocent people down with it. Jackson, however, was alive. Shockingly, he was alive. He laid admist the broken glass and the chains and the metal rigging, but he was alive. His back hurt, and he couldn't move much, but he'd survived the fall. Jackson looked around, then glanced down at his legs, which were not only bent in awful directions, but had glass shards sticking out of them. He started to cry. What had he done to deserve this?

The truth?

Nothing. He was a jerk, sure, but he was a pawn, and nothing more. Something to simply buy time to distract in case the heist went wrong. Something else for the police to be bothered by, busy with. To buy them some time. It was a failsafe, there was no guarantee it would be necessary. Except...well...Claire's intuition was spot on. Because things in the vault...were about to end violently.

                                                                         ***

"A car?" Allie asked.

The group circled around it like vultures admiring a fresh kill.

"A car? That's what he needed the space for?" Allie asked again, "I'm...I'm flummoxed."

"Baffled?" Benny asked.

"Bamboozled even," Allie said, the both of them laughing nervously at the exchange as she added, "why would he need to store a car? Unless...what did Zoe say about chips? About stealing chips?"

Allie approached the car and tried to open the trunk, but to no avail. Benny and Molly got to work, looking for the handle inside to do the job, while Allie stepped back and stood beside Claire. Allie folded her arms, confused. She simply couldn't fathom why he'd need a car, except to perhaps move chips without being detected. Claire coughed anxiously and Allie looked towards her.

"Well, looks like you might have your ride out of town," Allie said, and Claire laughed.

"Stop," a voice said, and Allie and Claire turned to see Raindrop entering behind them. She looked ragged, worn out, like she'd run all the way down here. What the hell was she doing here? Zoe was supposed to keep her occupied. Nobody said a thing while Molly and Benny continued to look for the handle to open the trunk, as Raindrop slowly, and cautiously, approached the gang.

"What's this?" Claire asked, putting a hand into her leather jacket pocket.

"I work for Raymond Sykes," Raindrop said, "he's been looking for proof that Tony's been cheating him, planning on pulling support. I fucking hate Raymond Sykes, but I can use this as leverage. I can take this to him, get Tony shut down, and Raymond will let me quit. He won't let me quit. I've tried."

"Yeah, that sounds like Raymond," Allie scoffed, remembering the things others had said about him, "but we can't...we can't let you do that, we need to give this information to the agents we're working with. Come with us. Join us. You can get out with us, Raindrop."

Raindrop bit her lip, her eyes scanning to Molly and Benny digging around in the car, their backs to everyone. Benny whistled to them that they think they found the handle, and Allie and Claire turned back to see. Raindrop shook her head, reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a small, snub nosed pistol. She walked past Allie and Claire, shoving them aside, as Allie screamed. Molly turned to see what was happening when the shot went out and she stumbled back against the car, feeling the heat of the bullet in her gut. Benny screamed and looked towards Raindrop before she plugged him as well, the both of them sliding down against the car and to the floor. Allie screamed and stood up, but Raindrop shoved her away and aimed at Allie, tears running down her face. Allie felt her heart drop. No. This...this wasn't...her eyes looked towards Molly. She'd promised Olivia they'd come back safe. Allie started crying and squeezed her eyes shut tight, preparing for the shot, when she heard the sound of a gun go off. Allie opened her eyes and saw Raindrop dead on the floor, a hole between her eyes. Claire was standing there, holding a pistol, before looking down at Allie. Claire reached down and held her hand out, but Allie wouldn't take it. Claire knelt beside her, taking her face in her hands.

"It's all gone to shit," Claire whispered, "You need to get these guys out of here, and I need to get ghost."

"...you could've let her kill me," Allie whimpered.

"And you could've shot me instead of Kristin," Claire replied, "but that's not what we do. You and me, Meers, we're in this to the end. Now we're even. Get Salem down here, get these guys out, they don't deserve to die for this."

Allie nodded, in awe of what had just transpired, reeling in the aftermath. Claire looked at her watch and shook her head.

"I say you got about a half hour before anyone comes down here to see what's going on, and even less time for them for the shock to set in, which will make saving them harder. Get them out, Meers. I'll contact you."

Claire pulled Allie up to her feet and Allie stared at Claire. She didn't know how to react. Claire held Allie's face in her hands and kissed her, surprising her, before turning and briskly exiting the vault. Allie turned and looked at Molly and Benny, quickly rushing over to them. She pulled out of her phone and texted Salem to get down here immediately. She crawled up beside Molly and took her hands in her own, not realizing the amount of blood covering her now as she wiped one across her face to rid it of the sweat that had formed. Molly's eyes fluttered open and she looked up at Allie.

"I'm so sorry," Allie sobbed, her lip quivering, "I didn't...I didn't know that...Molly I'm so sorry."

"...you always are," Molly whispered, before looking towards Benny. Allie stood back up and opened her phone, calling Salem now. As she shouted at him about what was going on, Molly reached over and took Benny's hand. He wasn't moving, but his hand was still warm. Molly leaned herself back against the tire, shut her eyes, and slipped into the darkness she'd so long been afraid of.

Sirens.

Sirens across the city. Multiple ambulances parked at Jackson Strange's performance, a few more - along with a dozen police cars - parked at the second Card Shark, mayhem and grief spreading rapidly. Allie was stood outside the casino, Salem beside her, holding her hand tightly, her hands and face smeared with blood. 3 people loaded into various ambulances. Allie didn't understand how this happened. How did this happen? Everything had gone exactly as planned. How could this happen? Salem squeezed her hand tighter, and she grimaced, tears running down her face. This wasn't how it was going to end. She was going to fix this. She was going to make this right.

"You couldn't have known that-" Salem started, but Allie just shook her head.

"I took them down there," she said quietly, "this is all my fault. I did this."

"You did not do this, Allie," Salem said, "Allie, seriously, you had no idea that that would happen."

"Everything has been my fault, and I deserve to go down for it," Allie whispered, "but if I'm going down, so is Raymond Sykes. He will face fucking consequences for what happened here today, what he's done to everyone...he will not get away with this."

Allie exhaled.

"I need rest," she whispered, and Salem nodded.

"Go on home," Salem said, "I'll go see Olivia. You shouldn't have to-"

"No, I'll do that too, but I need a break first," Allie said, "...thank you Salem."

Allie turned and walked away, heading to the back lot to her car. As she approached, pulling her keys from her pocket, she spotted a note left on the windshield. Allie leaned over and grasped it in her fist, then smoothed it out and read it.

"Allie, please let me know you're okay. I heard there was an incident at the casino, Jenny."

Allie smiled weakly. She then climbed into her car and headed back to the previous Card Shark, where her suite...and someone else awaited her.

                                                                           ***

The door swung open, and the place was dark. Allie flipped on the lights, which had been set to dim mode, when she spotted someone sitting at her kitchen counter on a barstool. Allie slowly approached them, relieved to discover it was only Zoe. Zoe looked up at her as she entered the room, but neither one said anything. After a minute or two, Zoe stumbled off the stool and walked to Allie, who just opened her arms. Zoe collapsed into her chest and sobbed as Allie hugged her tight, stroking her hair.

"I've got you," Allie whispered.

"I did this," Zoe whispered, "this happened because of me. I felt bad for Raindrop. I sent her down there."

"You did what you thought was best, just like I did," Allie said softly, "we all screw up. But it can be fixed."

"Are they okay?" Zoe asked, and Allie shrugged.

"I...I really don't know," Allie said, trying not to think about Molly or Benny, as it hurt her heart far too much; Allie sighed and added, "but right now, I've got you. We're safe."

"We're never going to be safe," Zoe cried, and Allie scoffed.

"That isn't true," Allie said, "I'm going to make sure of it. We will be. Because Raymond Sykes isn't going to be arrested."

"What?" Zoe asked, looking up at her, confused.

"He can't be," Allie said, "he's wealthy, he's the governor for god sakes. He'll face no consequences. Which is why I'm going to kill him."

Rachel St. Sebastian was sitting on her bed. She had pulled the blankets up and around her, cocooning herself within them as she took slow but steady breaths, attempting to process what had occurred the night before. She had consented, that much was true, but if so...why did it feel so...wrong? Why did she feel taken advantage of? She thought she'd wanted it. She thought she'd liked the intimacy. She thought...she thought she'd loved Claire, but really...did she? Or was she simply a victim who had become too attached to her owner. She didn't know. After a minute, the door to the bedroom opened and Claire entered, carrying a bag of breakfast sandwiches and two cups of coffee in takeaway cups. Rachel looked up as Claire sat on the bed and opened the bag, reaching inside and pulling out a bear claw, handing it to Rachel, making her smile weakly. Claire really did know her, she couldn't deny.

"You," Claire said, sitting behind Rachel, arms around her shoulders, her lips on her neck, "sure put on a show last night, and I for one appreciate theatrics. I'm a patron of the arts, what can I say?"

Rachel chuckled as she continued nibbling on the bear claw, sipping at her coffee. Claire got up and started to get dressed, torn jeans and a crop top with a tight leather jacket. She did her earrings, then stood in front of the vanity to apply her makeup, all while Rachel watched, one eyebrow raised in confusion.

"Where are you going all dolled up again? You're not...are you seeing someone else?" Rachel asked, causing Claire to laugh as she applied her eyeliner.

"What, jealous?" Claire replied.

"I don't...no...I don't know. It was just a question. I was just wondering why you're getting dressed up all nice and pretty. Seems like something someone would only do if they're expecting to spend some time with someone," Rachel said, and Claire turned, finished with her thin layer of makeup, reaching out and putting a hand on Rachel's face. Rachel shivered at the warmth of her skin.

"I do have a luncheon to attend, Allie asked me to meet someone for her" Claire said, "but don't worry, it isn't like that. It's business. Not pleasure. You're all the pleasure I need, my pet."

She leaned in and kissed Rachel, then told her she'd be back in a few hours before leaving quickly. Rachel sat there and ate the entire bag of breakfast sandwiches and pastries, trying to make sense of her life. When it'd been just them...when it'd been the cult, it was one thing. She wanted so badly to protect Claire at all costs, she'd never loved another woman as deeply as she'd loved her. Rachel St. Sebastian had spent a good portion of her formative years denying her sexuality to herself simply for the sake of keeping the peace amongst her family and friends. But Claire...Claire had shaken all that loose within her, and she was so very dedicated to her. Dedicated enough to help her hide bodies in walls. But, she wondered...if she spent all her time protecting others...

...who was going to protect her?

                                                                         ***

Multiple knocks on the door only to find, after the 5th, that Jenny finally answered, discovering an annoyed looking Allie standing in her apartment hallway. Jenny sighed and stepped aside, allowing Allie entrance, after which Jenny shut the door behind them.

"What gives?" Allie asked, "You come to my place, you comfort me, you say that I need someone looking out for me, and then you don't answer my calls, you don't show up at the thing I invited you to, did I do something wrong?"

"You didn't do anything wrong, I just felt awkward," Jenny said, shrugging, walking by Allie and back towards the kitchen in her tank top and sleep shorts, where she was currently making steak and eggs for breakfast. Allie followed her and sat down at the kitchen table.

"Then what the fuck is it?" Allie asked, "Cause it's...it's bothering me."

"It isn't anything," Jenny said, "really, it isn't...it isn't anything, I have a job, I'm busy, I'm bad at communication."

"Didn't seem so bad communicating with Nick," Allie said, putting her legs up on Jenny's table and folding her arms.

"Hey, that isn't fair, I told you, everything we ever talked about was about you, alright?" Jenny replied, "let's at least try to keep this civil."

"Jenny, I am about to do something terrifying that might change my entire life, and I guess I just need to know I've got security in someone outside of those I'm involved with, someone who will give me a sense of-"

"Are we not involved?" Jenny asked, turning her stovetop off, finishing cooking and looking towards Allie, one hand on her hip.

"...I mean, we are, we're friends now, I guess? I don't know, you know I didn't mean it that way, come on," Allie said.

"We can be more involved, if that's what you'd like," Jenny said, taking Allie by surprise. Jenny set her utensils on the counter and approached, looking down at Allie. Allie looked up at her, and it was...so weirdly...comforting? Looking into her own face, like a mirror without any glass. Allie felt like now, finally, there was a good version of herself in the world who she could converse with. Jenny sat in Allie's lap and put her arms over her shoulders, causing Allie to tense up.

"Why don't you tell me what's bothering you, and I'll help best I can?" Jenny asked, and Allie nodded slowly.

She wasn't gay. She'd found women attractive before, sure, but she had no interest in sleeping with them? So what was this feeling exactly?

                                                                           ***

"I'm surprised you'd want to have anything to do with someone such as myself," Raindrop said, "I know I've been kind of...stuck up and snobby, but it isn't anything personal, I hope you know. I'm just hyperfocused on work when I'm at the casino. I know I don't come off exactly...friendly."

"Eh, nobody in a casino is friendly, to be fair," Zoe sad, shrugging as she watched Raindrop finish her second drink and put the glass back on the table; Zoe reached for a buffalo wing from the basket and started eating it as Raindrop sighed.

"Of course, but when you have to be extra professional all the time, it's...it's hard. It makes people never want to socialize with me, so this was a nice surprise, thank you," Raindrop said, unclipping her dark oak brown hair and letting it fall over her shoulders as she ran her fingers through it; she continued, "I want to have friends, go on dates, but all I do is work, and work for the worst kinds of people."

"Then why keep doing it?" Zoe asked.

"Cause they pay the best," Raindrop said, laughing, which made Zoe chuckle.

"Guess I can't exactly argue with that," Zoe said.

"For example, and I shouldn't even be telling you this, but, Tony? He's paying me exceptionally well," Raindrop said, "and I feel guilty accepting payment cause I'm barely even doing anything for him. I'm hoping, maybe, if he pays me enough, I can gamble enough of those earnings off to win that stupid car he's got parked in the casino. Lord knows I could use it."

"If you're paid so well, why not just buy a new car?" Zoe asked.

"Living in Vegas ain't cheap," Raindrop said, taking a wing for herself now, biting into it and chewing as she continued, adding, "rent, food, other expenses. A fancy car, despite being a crooked lawyer, is surprisingly low on my list of priorities. At this point my reputation speaks enough for itself that outside visuals aren't going to help much anyway."

"Once again, guess I can't exactly argue with that," Zoe said.

As Raindrop chowed down, Zoe motioned to the waitress to bring them more drinks and food. She was in this for the long haul, and boy...would it be long.

                                                                           ***

Jackson Strange was standing outside by the glass box, planted firmly on the ground, as he inspected it with two other men, both of whom he'd hired as help for the event. Really, though, what they were inspecting weren't even the box itself, to be fair, but moreso that surrounding area that the event would be taking place in. Jackson was concerned that the space was too tight, too cramped, could be claustrophobic - not for him, he'd already be in a glass box - but for anyone who wanted to witness the spectacle.

"I just don't want people to be afraid is all," Jackson said, "it's very important to me that my audience feels safe and comfortable."

"Well, then they probably shouldn't be attending a magic show," a voice from behind said, "after all, it's such a dangerous profession, but you know that don't you?"

Jackson turned and saw a woman standing there in torn jeans, a crop top and a leather jacket. Jackson raised an eyebrow in interest, as she approached them. Jackson told the other men to take a break as he turned his full attention to the woman now.

"And what would you know about that?" Jackson asked.

"Nothing much," Claire said, shrugging, "just that I'm a fan."

Claire walked past him a bit and looked up at the box, then looked back at him and grinned.

"Can I touch it?" she asked somewhat seductively, and Jackson nodded slowly, completely entranced by her. Claire pulled a hand free from the pocket on her jacket and reached out, placing her palm firmly on the glass wall, letting the coolness of it overwhelm her and make her shiver. Jackson walked up beside her and folded his arms as he stood there.

"I'm gonna be honest with you, mostly cause nobody else is here," Jackson said, "but I'm a little scared. This is easily the most extreme public escape stunt I've ever performed. I know I can do it, that's the thing, but it's that little gnawing doubt that is in the back of your head, you know? Can't logically convince my brain of the truth, regardless of its veracity. I know it'll be fine, but I always get nervous before a show."

"Not unsurprising," Claire said, shrugging, "I think if you didn't get nervous, well, that would be...strange, though perhaps that would suit you."

Jackson grinned as Claire pulled her hand off the box and stuffed it back into the jacket pocket. Jackson laughed a little and looked around. For some reason - despite being extremely successful with women - he was having a hard time acting cool in front of this woman, and he wasn't used to that.

"Listen," he said, scratching the back of his head, "if you'd like to know more about how it's done, we could have dinner tonight, if you're free."

"I would love that, actually," Claire said, smiling at him sweetly, biting her lip. Jackson was about to say something else when his attention was pulled away by one of the workers, and he excused himself momentarily. After he was a bit aways, Claire pulled a small camera from her jacket pocket and started taking snapshots of the box, the apparatus, the whole setup, and that's when she noticed the fault in the design. The chains weren't exactly secured in the way they should be. Whether this oversight was Jackson or the workers faults she couldn't know, but she knew exactly where to hit it now. She glanced over towards him and for a brief moment, she felt a twinge of regret. He was such a good conman, and she had some modicum of respect for him on that level, but...well...Allie had been mauled, so it wouldn't be that far fetched for Jackson to have some kind of accident doing his own work.

If she'd learned one thing since being here, it was that Vegas wasn't exactly safe.

                                                                          ***

Jenny was gathering up clothes in her bedroom, tossing them into a hamper that Allie was carrying around for her. After their brief moment in the kitchen, Jenny had asked for help with her chores around the apartment, and, considering Jenny had previously done her chores for her, Allie felt somewhat obligated to return the favor. Jenny picked up a few shorts, a pair of shorts and some underwear and threw them all into the hamper as Allie leaned against the wall and watched.

"I guess I just don't know what to make of it," Allie said.

"Why make anything of it?" Jenny asked, shrugging, "I mean, not everything has to be assigned some kind of meaning. Some things can just BE, you know? Why drive yourself crazy trying to make something out of nothing? I mean, shit, you of all people should know the power that comes with not knowing every little detail about something, considering you perform magic for a living. Those audiences know nothing, and they are thrilled at the experience."

Allie laughed a little and nodded as Jenny grabbed a robe and a pair of sweatpants, some tank tops and tossed them into the hamper as well. Standing in front of Allie, Jenny stopped and looked at her, causing Allie to stop breathing momentarily as their eyes locked.

"If I don't make anything of anything, then does anything mean anything?" Allie asked.

"What are you, a community college philosophy student?" Jenny asked, causing Allie to laugh nervously as Jenny reached out and put her hands on Allie's face, holding it so gently, leaning in, "just let things be. Not everything has to mean something. Some things just are."

Allie couldn't take it anymore. She dropped the hamper, took Jenny by the waist and kissed her...or rather...kissed...herself? The thing was, it wasn't Jenny she was interested in. It was this pastiche of herself that she was after. Sure, Jenny was very sweet, very soft, but her face looked exactly like Allie's and that was what made Allie want to do this. She wanted someone to love her in a way that only she could love herself. Jenny pushed forward, pinning Allie to the wall and kissed down her neck, causing Allie to pant heavily as Jenny held her wrists over her head.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this," Jenny whispered.

"I have some idea," Allie replied quietly. Jenny kissed downwards, kneeling, tugging at Allie's pants. There wasn't much Allie could've wanted, but to be with herself...that had long been the dream. Was it narcissism? Maybe. Or maybe it was the fact that everyone she'd ever been with romantically, sans Nick on occasion, had had so much trouble loving her unconditionally that perhaps she had finally bought into the concept of loving herself instead. Afterwards, laying on the bed, a single sheet half covering them as Jenny sifted her fingers through her tussled hair, Allie couldn't believe what she'd just done. Staring up at the ceiling, she thought about it. Jenny probably thought it was personal, about her, and Allie hated that that wasn't the case at all. She'd already taken her face from her, now she was going to break her heart too? How callous could she be? Allie rolled onto her side and sighed as Jenny did the same, rolling towards her, facing Allie's back and kissing her shoulders as she put a hand on her hip.

"You're so beautiful," Jenny whispered, and Allie blushed.

"So are you," Allie replied, and she meant it, just not in the way Jenny probably hoped.

                                                                             ***

"People with money, they make me sick," Raindrop said.

Both she and Zoe, at this point, were pretty sloshed, and still sitting in the booth. A dozen baskets of varying appetizers now scattered on the table amongst them, Zoe was starting to get a pounding headache. She rarely drank as it was, and it was not something she ever wanted to do again, not after tonight, not after this. Raindrop was sat in the booth, her head completely craned back, as Zoe slid down the side and laid flat on the booth, out of sight as Raindrop continued to complain.

"Yeah people with money suck," Zoe mumbled.

"I don't want to be like them, but it's so nice to be comfortable, so I continue doing what I do and I feel like an enormous hypocrite. I'm on retainer for so many wealthy fucks, and they all act like their lives are soooo hard. Raindrop, hide this money for me! Raindrop, sue this already marginalized business owner for me! Raindrop, hide my assets in a secret vault! Disgusting."

Zoe sat up a bit, glancing over the table.

"Secret vault?" she asked, and Raindrop laughed.

"I shouldn't say anything," she said, "but god, Tony is so scared of his business partner that he wants to hide his best earnings in a vault under the casino. He even had a contractor special build it for him, because he wants it totally hidden so he can eventually take it and leave town. He's sick of the city. He wants out. And actually, I don't blame him, of all the people I work for, he's the most down to earth. My other boss, his business partner, is a straight out psycho when it comes to money. I don't blame Tony for being scared. Oh my god, you can't tell anyone I said any of this, okay?"

"I'm a magician," Zoe stuttered, slurring her words, "what benefit would this information really gain me?"

"You wouldn't believe what's down there," Raindrop said.

"Really?" Zoe asked, sitting upright more now, pushing her curly bangs from her face.

"Mhhhm," Raindrop said, crawling over the booth towards her and lowering her voice as she leaned in, "I'll give you a hint, you think that car in the casino is a prize? It isn't. It's a coverup. He's using a car as a cover up! Nobody is ever gonna win that thing! The odds of winning a car in a casino are so low, and even then, even then..."

Raindrop started laughing, causing Zoe to furrow her brow in confusion.

"...and even then," she continued, still half whispering, half laughing, "it isn't worth what you think it is!"

                                                                              ***

Rachel was sitting at the dinner table, having eaten. A lot of food was on another plate across the table from her, now completely stone cold. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime of waiting, the front door opened and Claire entered, pulling her leather jacket off and tossing it onto the armchair in the living room before entering the kitchen, not bothering to turn the lights on as Rachel had lit candles going on the table. Seeing Claire in her tight low rise jeans and her sleeveless crop top, Rachel had to bite her lip to control her attraction as Claire retrieved a beer from the fridge and uncapped it, standing by the table and drinking for a moment before her eyes widened.

"Did you...did you make dinner for both of us?" she asked.

"Does it matter?" Rachel asked, sounding totally defeated.

"...I'm so sorry," Claire said, sounding genuine - but of course, that's part of being a good liar and Rachel knew damn well that's what she was now - and very appreciative as she added, "my meeting ran longer than I intended, but it was very important. Not...not that having dinner with you isn't. That didn't come out right."

"I stay here and I hope every day that you love me," Rachel said, on the verge of tears, "and I'm so stupid cause I know you never will, not in the way I need you to, the way I hope you will. I'm such a goddamn idiot."

Rachel scooted her chair out from the table and gathered her plates, taking them over to the sink. Claire set her drink down on the counter and approached her from behind, putting her hands on her hips, nuzzling her neck.

"Please don't be upset," Claire whispered, as Rachel fought the urge to give in, but she didn't.

"I'm sorry but I am," Rachel said, "I do things for you all the time and you can't even give me a single evening. What even ARE we? You call me your 'pet' as if I'm supposed to be honored by that title. That's...that's not honorable. That's insulting. Dehumanizing. I'm a person, not a German Shepard. You're not going to change. And...and I wouldn't want you to, because I love you for who you are, but at the same time who you are isn't healthy for me."

Claire felt her heart break. Rachel pulled away and took some tupperware from an upper cabinet before walking back to the table to put the rest of the food away. Claire leaned against the counter and sniffled.

"One morning," Claire said, "when I was 13 years old, I made my bed. Getting me to do anything related to cleaning my room as a child was always a problem for my parents, so this was completely out of the blue for me. But I was tired of fighting about it, and I figured, ya know, I'd do the right thing and just make the bed. So I made the bed. And when I got home from school, what do I find? I find a note pinned to my headboard. They couldn't even talk to me in person about it, I wasn't even worthy enough of an audible explanation, no, I got pen and paper. It said they couldn't believe I'd done it, and that I must be doing it to mess with them and they didn't trust my intentions. I do the wrong thing and it gets a bad reaction, I do the right thing and it gets a bad reaction. That was the moment I realized that it didn't matter what I did, because who I was was inherently distrustful, so I may as well be anyone else. So I started applying new personalities."

Rachel stopped and turned to look at Claire, knowing she was finally telling her the truth about something. Rachel was, perhaps, the only person capable of hearing the change in her tone when Claire told the truth.

"I eventually ran away, came up with a persona people seemed to like, and you know the rest. But here, now, with you...it feels like it was with my parents. No matter what I do, I can't please you. If I'm controlling, which you seemed to find attractive, then I'm bad, and if I'm apologetic then it doesn't make a difference either. You're the only person I ever wanted to actually trust me, past my parents I mean. To hear you don't...it hurts so much."

Rachel set the tupperware down and approached Claire, putting her hands on her face and lifting it so she could look in her eyes.

"I was a little girl, and I made my bed," Claire cried quietly, as Rachel kissed her, then pulled her in for a hug. And the thing was, Claire wasn't lying. Everything she said was the truth. But she wasn't telling Rachel these things because she had any intention of changing, she was doing it to emotionally manipulate her into continue helping her, trusting her. Yes, Claire loved her, but what Claire loved more...

...was loyalty.

                                                                            ***

It was almost 2am, and Allie was finally getting back to the suite, unlocking her door and entering. As she turned the lights on, she saw Zoe laying on the couch, and sighed. Allie walked over to the couch and sat down on the arm, reaching down and gently touching Zoe's head, causing her to wake up a bit.

"Are you drunk again?" Allie asked.

"Yes, but not for the reasons you may think," Zoe said, hiccuping, "and believe me, I'm never drinking again."

"What are you doing here?" Allie asked.

"We need to talk," Zoe said, sitting upright with Allie's help; she continued, "I took Tony's lawyer out tonight, at the Agents suggestion. Was told to get information out of her. Allie...the vault...what's in it...it's not what we think. She wouldn't tell me exactly what it was, but she did tell me about the car in the casino."

"The one on the spinning pedestal?" Allie asked, and Zoe nodded; Allie added, "what does that have to do with anything?"

"Because my math was wrong," Zoe said, "remember when I brought up all that math before? Well I was wrong."

"Wrong? You?" Allie asked, smirking, making Zoe chuckle.

"I mean, I wasn't wrong in the math, but I was wrong in how to deal with it. If Tony hires someone to win the prize, as I said, he's covered. But theft? Theft isn't protected in the same sense as someone winning it properly and having to pay the earnings on it. So I went back to the casino and I took pictures of it. I then went home, went to the website for the manufacturer and looked it up. I figured, okay, I’ll find the same model car, and get an idea of the features such a car model might typically offer. But here's the thing...here's what we didn't take into consideration...a car loses value as soon as it's driven off the lot, so the car is already worth less because he's bought it to put it in the casino. Therefore whatever value whoever wins it would get for reselling it would be so much less."

"...okay?" Allie asked, "Zoe, what are you telling me?"

"Allie, and I hate that I have to say this, but..." Zoe said, looking at her feet before looking up at Allie and grimacing, "...we have to steal that car."

Raymond Sykes was never late.

He was always punctual, always on time, lived life to the tick of a clock. He planned his days meticulously, and to the letter. This morning, for instance, he woke up at his normal time, showered, shaved, got dressed, got coffee, and headed into the office. He was a slave to the routine in the most successful kind of way. As he strolled into the building, heading down the hall to his office, he couldn't help but think about what else he had on his plate for today. He opened the door to his office and stepped inside, surprised to find a woman already inside. She had red hair and was wearing a slimming black dress with a large black sunhat, a white ribbon tied around it. She turned to face him as he entered, pulling the large sunglasses down the bridge of her nose.

"Hello," Raymond said hesitantly, shutting the door behind him.

"I'm sorry, I hope this isn't an intrusion," the woman said, "I was told it would be okay to wait in here by your secretary."

"Oh, yes, it's more than fine," Raymond replied, walking around her and getting behind his desk, plopping his briefcase and coffee down on its topside before looking at her; he raised an eyebrow and asked, "though I am curious who you are."

"Right, I'm sorry, I'm all out of sorts," the woman said, "I'm Heather Bastion, Chuck Bastion's daughter. I was told you were familiar with my father."

"I was, I'm sorry to hear of his passing. Wasn't aware he had any kids," Raymond said as he sat down at his desk and nervously adjusted his tie.

"Well, to be fair, we were related in blood only," the woman said, sitting in the chair opposite Raymond, continuing, "I mean, he wasn't exactly cut out to be a father, and my stepfather wasn't too pleased about his wife having a child with another man. But I'm not here to give you my life story. I'm here to ask a favor. My father once spoke to me of his business, about how he helped funnel money through tax shelters for casinos. Said they funded not just his continued political career, but others as well. I was just hoping to have some documents to perhaps verify things, so that I can continue to be the recipient of his...generosity, now that he's gone."

"I see you're as morally bankrupt as the rest of us," Raymond replied, smirking.

"I'm not going to question where money comes from so long as it goes to me," the woman said, leaning back in her chair, grinning, making Raymond laugh.

"Chuck was a good friend, and we did do a lot of business together," he said, "I wouldn't mind helping you with that. But why would you be in financial straits, don't you have parents?"

"Not anymore," the woman said, "um, my folks, well, let's just say they were less than pleased when I...when I told them I fancy women over men. Seems love is apparently the biggest sin one can commit."

Raymond's face softened, and he reached across the table, patting her hand.

"I'm very sorry to hear that, that's...that's no way to treat your child," he said, "so you're just looking for doctored paperwork, right? Stuff that'll keep the IRS from being interested and keep you in the loop, financial wise? Because I've got all that. We can do this over a series of a few visits."

"That would be so lovely, thank you so much. Ever since he died, people have been...less than helpful," the woman said, smiling warmly at him, causing him to smile in return. As Raymond got up and started digging through a nearby filing cabinet, the woman stayed sat in her chair, watching closely. She was so good at this. She was such a good liar. After spending her life being a chameleon, always changing herself up for new opportunities, new chances at success, she had become an expert at it. This? This would be a breeze compared to running a cult. Claire really knew her skills.

                                                                             ***

"Am I the only one partially concerned with how many practice attempts this has taken him?" Benny asked, "I mean, if he was good at it, wouldn't it...ya know...not take that many attempts?"

Benny, Salem, Allie and Molly were at yet another one of Jackson Strange's public practice attempts at his upcoming Glass Box trick. Standing amongst the crowd, Salem was clearly nervous, constantly tugging on the tassels from his windbreaker hood, as Allie eyeballed him. Molly was busy eating a churro, while Benny downed a whole can of Root Beer. Benny finished his drunk, scrunched the can in his fist and tossed it into a nearby trashcan.

"Tricks like this are dangerous, you of all people should know that," Allie said, "not because you do them, but because you work in the industry."

"Tricks like this are bullshit, is what they are, a spectacle, nothing else," Salem said, finally breaking his silence, "tricks like this are what cause accidents, and accidents are what causes loss of faith in performers in the general public. This man is a menace not just to those around him but to our profession."

"This guy's angry, I like him" Benny said, causing Molly to chuckle.

"All I'm saying is things like this are what causes general unease in audiences," Salem said, "because they come to a show like this for escapism-"

"Quite literally that's what he's doing," Benny said, making Allie laugh.

"-and yet," Salem continued, "what they might get instead, if done incorrectly, is their very life threatened. This thing is a supposedly glass box, suspended feet in the air above people outside, and if anything were to go wrong, and I'm not even speaking on Strange's behalf in regards to his abilities but moreso to the preparation of the trick itself, then this thing could fall and shatter and hurt lots of people."

Allie chewed her lip and nodded, listening closely.

"Yeah," she muttered, "yeah it could."

                                                                           ***

"Here," Zoe said, putting the device down on the desk of Agent Siskel, who looked up at her, plopping her chopsticks down in her take out container.

"That didn't seem very difficult," Agent Siskel said, and Zoe shrugged.

"I got in, planted it, got out and then went back," Zoe answered, "I did exactly what you asked me. I think there's probably a lot of good stuff on there, he has a lot of meetings with this shady 'lawyer' named Raindrop, so I don't think you're gonna have to search too far for the answers you're needing."

"Raindrop?" Agent Siskel asked, picking up the device and looking at it, then putting it back down, "Raindrop Mullens? Kind of a...a lithe, very cold woman who speaks in a stilted way?"

Zoe nodded, confused. Agent Siskel backed her chair away from her desk, climbed out of it and headed to a nearby file cabinet. After sifting through some folders briefly, she finally came away with an envelope that she plopped down on the desk as she seated herself once more, opening it. Zoe watched in confusion as Agent Siskel slid the papers inside out onto the desk and shook her head.

"She's been a problematic lawyer for years," Agent Siskel said, "always helping those who shouldn't be receiving help, those clearly committing crimes they should pay the consequences for. After Nicole, who used to doctor all of her fathers papers for tax shelters blew her brains out, Raymond needed someone else to do just that. Suffice to say, if she's 'working' for Tony, she's not working for Tony."

"...aw fuck," Zoe mumbled, rubbing a palm over her face as she slumped more in her chair, "it's always something."

"However, she clearly has no knowledge of what's going on between you guys and us, being in the middle of all of this, which provides us with the chance to gain invaluable insight into her dealings. Take her out. Get her drunk. Make her talk. She's a criminal lawyer but she's also a lush, and I guarantee enough drink on her lips and a pretty girl to talk to, and she'll crack wide open like a walnut."

"You do realize you're not in Dragnet, right? You don't have to talk like this," Zoe said, "so now I have to take this girl out? Pretend to be interested in her? I just got engaged! My fiance doesn't know about any of this, what if she-"

"Zoe," Agent Siskel said, putting the papers down and cupping her hands on the desktop, clearing her throat, "Allie's looking at taking a lot of time behind bars for what she did. Granted, she's taking a deal for a longer sentence to ensure none of her accomplices also face charges. Noble, certainly, but still. You wanna help reduce that sentence even further? Do this. Get Raindrop on the same charges we're going after Tony and Raymond for, and Allie maybe won't spend a good part of her late 30s in prison."

Zoe sighed. She knew Allie had taken a deal. She knew Allie was doing her best to shield the others from the consequences of her actions, and their interaction with them. She figured, hell, she owed her that much. Zoe nodded.

"I'll do it," Zoe whispered, "but I won't be happy about it."

"That's life, kid," Agent Siskel said.

                                                                         ***

Rachel St. Sebastian was making dinner.

She loved to cook. For all the work she did in a rather unsettling and predominantly male field of business, she was extremely feminine, and cooking was one of her favorite hobbies. It was just that she so rarely had the time or energy to do so anymore. But tonight? Tonight was special. Tonight she was doing something nice, not just for herself, but for Claire as well. She had a gorgeous glazed duck in the oven, she had made mashed potatoes from scratch, she had created a vegetable medley of sorts. It was going to knock Claire's socks off. Rachel checked the duck once more, then shut the oven lid and turned, screaming, hand to her chest as she saw Claire sitting down at the kitchen table.

"Christ, you're so good at that," Rachel said, making Claire smirk; Rachel then furrowed her brow, "why...why are you dressed like a high priced call girl?"

"I was going more for a rich uppity wasp, but okay," Claire said, removing her earrings, "I had a meeting today. Something smells good in here. Are you cooking?"

"I, yeah, I am. For you. For us, whatever. I didn't have much work today, so," Rachel said, flustered, "you had a meeting? What kind of meeting?"

"You know, a meeting. Something where you get together with someone, in this case someone very prominent, and you discuss business," Claire said, standing up and approaching the stove, putting her hands on Rachel's shoulders and leaning in, pushing her lips on her neck, whispering, "and to think, after that, I get to come home to such domesticity. What a lucky girl I am."

Claire kissed Rachel's neck, and Rachel seized up, half out of lust and half out of fear. What wasn't Claire telling her? After being necked for a bit, Rachel then gently pushed Claire away and caught her breath.

"Where were you?" Rachel asked, this time more sternly.

"I told you, I had a meeting."

"No, you don't get to be vague, okay? I helped you do what you did, we're partners in more ways than one, and-"

"Oh we are? Was that your decision?" Claire asked, causing Rachel's blood to run cold; Claire smiled, "sweetheart, yes, you did good, helping me, protecting me, but let's get one thing clear here above all else, okay? You're not my partner. Not in a business sense, and not in a romantic sense."

Rachel's breath became shaky, as she stumbled back against the counter, grasping it with her hands, terrified.

"wh...what am I then?" Rachel asked quietly as Claire grabbed her by the chin and smiled.

"You're my pet, of course," Claire said, "my pretty, precious pet. Now, let me know when dinner is finished, I have to go make a phone call."

With that, Claire exited the room, leaving Rachel visibly shaking. Rachel clambored for her cigarettes, grabbing the carton and retrieving one, lighting it and smoking right there in the kitchen. She hated smoking in the house, but sometimes...sometimes she didn't have a choice. A pet? That's what Claire thought of her. Rachel could feel her heart breaking. All she wanted was for this girl to be stable, to love her in a genuinely romantic way, and yet she was...a pet? Then again, Claire didn't feel the things ordinary people felt. She didn't understand human emotions. She was a sociopath. Rachel knew she was asking for too much. But she still wished for it, as every woman does. To be loved unconditionally, by people who will never do so.

Claire, meanwhile, headed down the hallway and into the bedroom, shutting the door and locking it behind her. She picked up the landline on the bedside table as she seated herself on the bed and started to push her heels off with her feet. She dialed, then waited for a bit. Finally, after about seven rings, it went to voicemail.

"Meers, it's Claire. We need to talk," Claire said.

                                                                           ***

Allie didn't get back to the suite until late that night.

After seeing Strange's practice performance, she and the others went out to eat and plan, and after that, Benny and Molly went home, while she and Salem stayed out a bit longer. They discussed the ethics of magic, the morality of Vegas, and everything in between. Salem was a smart guy, Allie quickly discovered, and she was more than happy to have him on her team. When she finally did get back to the suite, she stepped inside and was instantly ready for a bath, but she quickly discovered she wasn't alone. Zoe was sitting on her couch, looking terrible. Her makeup was smeared, running down her face, and she was drinking, something Allie rarely saw.

"Zoe?" Allie asked, as she approached the couch.

"Yeah, hi, hello," Zoe said.

"What are you...why are...are you okay?" Allie asked, and Zoe shrugged.

"Is anyone, at this point? What even is 'ok' anymore? We're all fucked, Allie," Zoe said, "we're all so fucking fucked. This is a nightmare, a never ending nightmare and I can't even begin to pretend that it isn't anymore. I thought, ya know, for a while, maybe I could convince myself things would even out, would somehow...would somehow get fixed, but they aren't ever getting fixed. This isn't ever going to go away."

Allie climbed over the couch and sat down beside Zoe, taking the drink from her hand and placing it on the coffee table in front of them before rubbing her back.

"Zoe, it's going to end, okay, that's a guarantee, because there's no way a crime of this magnitude goes on indefinitely, especially not when there's so much evidence already gathered," Allie said, "I get that you're feeling scared and overwhelmed, and right now it feels like it'll always be this way, but it won't. I promise."

Zoe looked at Allie, her eyes wide and watery, her curly bangs falling down over her face.

"You took the whole blame," Zoe said, "I know you said it, and then the agent said it today, but I don't think it really sunk in until this moment what that means. It means you are taking full responsibility, will face the full brunt of the consequences. I...I can't believe someone would do that, especially not someone who was once so selfish, and god I'm sorry that was rude to say but-"

"No, it wasn't rude, it was right. I was selfish. I was a drug addict, an alcoholic, losing my job, my boyfriend, with no friends. When we met, I was at absolute rock bottom, and that's what I'm trying to prevent all of you from reaching as well. You especially, Zoe. You don't...you deserve better. So much better. It's going to end. We are getting so close, believe me. After we get into the vault in a few days, god, it's all going to change."

"We're all Jackson Strange," Zoe wept, "we're all trapped in a glass box, vying to get out, terrified of what happens if we don't, and it's suspended above everyone who can see our failures. Can see our faults. Can see our flaws. They know we're frauds. Fakes. They know we're going to underperform. I'm so scared."

"You are not Jackson Strange," Allie said, "and you're not going to stayed trapped in the glass box, I'm making damn sure of that."

Zoe leaned in and hugged Allie, as Allie, surprised but pleased, hugged her back.

"you're my hero," Zoe mumbled through her tears, and Allie's heart broke a little. Flattered, certainly, but she wished Zoe had better heroes. After a moment, Zoe held up her hand, saying as she weeped, "I got engaged. Effie asked me to marry her," and Allie smiled so wide. She wanted Zoe to be loved, to be taken care of, and she knew Effie adored her to the ends of the earth. Things really would be okay. Behind them the phone rang, and after a handful of rings, it went to voicemail, where Claire's voice rang out loud and clear.

"Meers, it's Claire. We need to talk," she said.

If anything, it wasn't the end of everything that worried Allie. She knew how it would end. Tony and Raymond would be held accountable for their crimes, she herself would spend time behind bars for the things she'd done, and everyone else would get off relatively scottfree. Molly, Olivia and Benny would leave town, presumably. Salem would likely go back to his quiet, unbothered existence. Zoe would continue to perform, likely better than she ever had before, and be a married woman. The one wild card, however, was Claire. Allie didn't know where things would end with Claire.

And to be honest...

...she was fucking scared to find out.

Allie woke up and groaned, rolling onto her side from her stomach. As she gained consciousness, she gripped the top of the couch with her fingers and managed to hoist herself up further, and glanced around the suite, her eyes adjusting to the light of the new day, only to be surprised when she spotted Jenny standing in her kitchen, making coffee. Allie sat upright fully and licked her lips, rubbing her hands over her eyes as Jenny came back to the couch with a mug, handing it to Allie before taking a nearby blanket and putting it over her shoulders. Allie lifted the mug to her lips and took a long sip, then looked up at Jenny, standing in front of her, smiling down.

"...what are you still doing here?" Allie asked, her voice hoarse, making Jenny shrug.

"Didn't feel right leaving you," she replied, "you just seemed like you shouldn't be alone."

"I can handle myself," Allie said.

"Can you? Cause anytime I see you you're about to self destruct," Jenny remarked, sitting down on the couch now. Allie pulled her legs up under her, continuing to drink her coffee as Jenny went on, adding, "just seems like you're always looking out for others but nobody's looking out for you, I guess."

Allie thought about what an astute observation this was. She was always there for Zoe, for Molly, for everyone around her, always trying her best to shield them from the consequences of her actions, their actions as a group, but they had support systems of their own as well. Zoe had Effie, Molly had Benny and Olivia. Seemed like she was the only one being unsupported for the most part, especially now that Nick was distancing himself once again. She sighed and, much to even her own surprise, she scooted closer and rested her head on Jenny's shoulder.

"...I guess it could be nice to be taken care of now and then," Allie said.

Though, with Jenny's face mirroring Allie's, it was like she was taking care of herself.

                                                                        ***

Molly, Benny and Olivia were out, eating breakfast nearby the casino. Molly was having a dish made of cheese and scrambled eggs, while Benny and Olivia shared a stack of waffles. Molly scooped food into her mouth with her fork and chewed, looking out the window by their table as she did so, thinking. Benny looked up from the plate and swallowed, then put his fork down and picked up his water glass, taking a long sip.

"You okay there sport?" he asked.

"I just keep thinking about how we're going to accomplish this," Molly said, "I mean, realistically, what's the outcome? We get in there, get some photos and get out? That's hardly evidence. We can't take anything from it, because he would know, and who's to say there aren't cameras down there?"

"All valid questions," Olivia said, stabbing at the waffles.

"We could get masks, like those guys in bank heist movies," Benny said. Just then Zoe dropped onto the bench next to Molly and sighed, running her hands through her hair. Everyone looked at her and smiled politely. She waited a moment until a waitress came around and ordered a breakfast sandwich and some espresso and then looked at the table.

"I went to see Salem Shaw," she said, catching everyone off guard.

"You went to do what now?" Benny replied.

"We need someone who can be a distraction," Zoe said, "he can be that distraction. I'm not going in, so he and I can work the floor together, do a floor show in the main casino. This will provide ample distraction to anyone who should instead be focusing on security. Who's going in, by the way, do we know?"

"Me, Allie, Molly, Rufus and, apparently, someone else that Allie won't tell me yet," Benny said, "I think that's far too many, but who knows. Maybe we'll need that money."

A moment passed and Zoe grinned, then held up her hand, flashing the ring on her finger. Everyone took a minute to try to comprehend her message, until Olivia's eyes widened and she put a hand to her mouth.

"Did you get engaged?!" she asked excitedly, and Zoe nodded.

"Yeah!" she replied, "yeah, Effie asked me last night. It's...it's so weird. I'm so happy but it's also something I never saw myself doing. Then again there's lots of stuff in the last few years I never saw myself doing, so who knows."

"Congratulations," Molly said solemnly, without looking up from her eggs, making Zoe feel confused. While she and Olivia continued to discuss the ring and the engagement and the potential wedding plans, Molly excused herself to go outside and have a cigarette. After a minute or so, Benny opted to join her. He found Molly standing on the side alley by the dumpster, smoking, and stopped right beside her, as she passed the cigarette to him and he took a puff, coughing a little.

"Haven't done this in a while, and certainly not in a location that makes me feel like I'm in high school," he said, making Molly smirk as she took it back and continued smoking; Benny swatted at the smoke in the air, cleared his throat and asked, "are you okay? Your whole demeanor seemed to shift there real quickly."

"...I'm not supposed to be happy," Molly said, "I'm not...that just isn't for me. I'm glad Zoe's happy. I'm glad she's getting what she wants, or didn't know she wanted until it happened. But I can't be around that kind of happiness because I'm not destined for it myself, so."

"Destined for it? Molly, you're not a lead in a fantasy novel," Benny laughed, "and I had no idea you might even want-"

"I don't know that I do, I just...it'll never happen for me, regardless, and that's kind of sad," she remarked.

A pause, and Benny kicked the ground in front of them.

"You know," he said, "there was a point in time where Olivia and I discussed marriage. She was never kinda for it, it was always very, uh...whatever to her, ya know? Me, I grew up around lots of happy couples, my parents are still together, and so I...I always liked the idea and I was certainly the one who was pushing for it more than she was. I guess what I'm trying to say is that, we eventually came to an agreement that, if we were gonna be together, and be open, we wouldn't mind bringing in a third so long as she didn't care if I got married."

Molly slowly turned her head to look at Benny, who reached over and ran his knuckles across her cheek.

"I think subtext is enough, right?" he asked, and she laughed, nodding, as he came around in front of her and pinned her to the alley wall, kissing her, and she happily kissed him back. Molly never expected to be involved in crime, but she also never expected to fall in love. First time for everything, she figured.

                                                                            ***

"I wonder if there's irony in the fact that a person who performs magic for a living feels like such a fraud in their personal life," Allie said.

She was still sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket while Jenny picked up around the suite, gathering items into a large trash bag, putting dirty laundry into a nearby hamper, just taking care of the things Allie had been willfully neglecting for a while now.

"I mean," Allie continued, "nothing about me is real. My personality is simply an amalgamation of people I've admired, my interests and hobbies are just things I picked up from others and not anything I discovered on my own, and my ability to have friends and romantic partners is always tainted by the fact that I feel like I'm putting on a show. Everything is so performative. Nobody really knows who I am or how I feel because I'm scared if they did...they'd hate me. And why wouldn't they? That me is worse than the version they know, and the version they know they already hate, so logically it just makes sense they'd hate the real me too."

Jenny stopped and looked at Allie, hand on her hip as she tossed her hair back behind her head.

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe, just maybe, the facade isn't a bad thing?" Jenny asked, and Allie looked up, one eyebrow raised in confusion; Jenny sighed, rolled her eyes and added, "everyone makes such a big deal about being real, being raw, being authentic and true to themselves. But all the most famous people in the world are entertainers who's actual personhood we know nothing about. We like the fraudulent. We embrace those putting on a mask. So maybe the facade isn't an inherently bad thing, Allie. Take it from a girl who no longer has her own face...sometimes fakery is better."

Allie watched as Jenny plopped the bag down on the floor, tossed another pair of jeans into the hamper and then sat back down on the couch beside her, sighing, shaking her head.

"Because nobody recognizes me now, but they sure like me more than they used to," Jenny continued, "because I'm not who they used to think I was. Now I'm somebody different. In some cases, someone they like or recognize or admire. They like me cause I look like you."

Allie looked at Jenny, who looked back at her, and for a brief moment, Allie saw her own self worth in someone elses eyes. Jenny smiled weakly and flopped back into the couch cushions, exhaling, blowing her bangs from her face.

"I think, when we spend our entire lives hating ourselves, it becomes hard to believe others might like us," Jenny said.

"...then why doesn't Nick like me the way he claims to?" Allie asked, sounding genuinely defeated, and Jenny shrugged.

"Maybe the problem isn't with you," Jenny answered, "maybe the problem is Nick doesn't know what he actually wants. Do you know what you actually want?"

Allie hesitated, bit her lip, and then nodded.

                                                                             ***

Rachel St. Sebastian was finishing up work for the day.

She tugged the rubber gloves off her hands and tossed them in a nearby bin, before adjusting the tubing leading into the corpse on her table, and then backed away, reaching into her coat pocket and pulling out her cigarettes. She unboxed one, lit it and then lifted it to her lips, where she took a nice, long puff. She shouldn't be smoking around the dead, she knew this, but it wasn't like they'd get cancer. Besides, the embalming process basically guaranteed they were wax figures, so the smoke wasn't any harm to their skin. Rachel stood there, tapping her foot on the floor, thinking about her job. She could've done something 'normal'. She could've been just an ordinary doctor. Lord knows she had the smarts and ambition for it. She could've helped people, saved people, but...the thing was...nobody ever wanted to help the dead. Only the alive.

She could remember being a little girl and going to a funeral, she was maybe 12 years old, and she could recall how someone had called the service "a celebration of life", and she found that viewpoint far more morbid than anything that was actually supposed to be morbid. Everyone was so afraid of death that they couldn't even spend a single day discussing it. Instead, they turned what was meant to be a goodbye into a "celebration". That felt wrong to her, somehow. So disingenous. So maybe she was in the right career field after all, doing what she could to help the dead. After all, she certainly couldn't help the living.

"You should keep this door locked," Claire said as she entered down the stairs, causing Rachel to jump in surprise, putting a hand to her chest.

"Jesus don't do that," she muttered, "what are you even doing here?"

"I like to keep tabs," Claire said, grinning, "actually I just missed you. We don't see eachother much anymore."

"Well, that's partially because I'm busy working and you're busy being a fugitive, so," Rachel replied, taking a long drag off her cigarette, as Claire got closer, took it from her lips and popped it between her own, taking a drag herself before blowing smoke into Rachel's face, causing her to cough, and feel her heartbeat quicken. Claire knew exactly the kind of attitude she liked, and she hated herself for it. She hated how attracted she was to her.

"So," Claire asked, turning to face the table, "who's the deadbeat?"

"Um," Rachel said, chuckling as she scratched her forehead, "his name was Chuck Bastion, he was a...a prominant politician, nothing really high up but very well respected. Leaves behind no family, no wife, no children, not that anyone knows about anyway."

Claire glanced down at Chuck's body and grinned.

"Is that so?" she asked, taking another drag.

                                                                            ***

"Thanks for keeping me company today," Allie said.

She was now sitting on the kitchen island counter as Jenny finished doing the dishes. Jenny sopped the excess water up, then dried her hands with some nearby paper towels before turning away from the sink and back to facing Allie, smiling warmly at her.

"I didn't have much else going on," Jenny said, shrugging.

"That's a ringing endorsement for the enjoyability of my company," Allie said, both of them laughing; Allie continued, "no really, I think I needed a day off. A day with no magic, no drama, no nothing. I've been burning the wick at both ends and I feel like I was finally running out of steam."

"And metaphors," Jenny said.

"Right," Allie said, chuckling, "and to have some company from someone that isn't someone I see all the time, that's nice. There's no expectations in regards to our interaction. Everyone else I deal with...they expect things from me, you know? My friends expect leadership, my audience expects entertainment, my boss expects financial return on his investments. I think you're the only person who doesn't expect anything from me. Nick sure expected things..."

Jenny walked up to the island and put her hands on Allie's knees, looking up at her.

"Love, be it romantic or platonic, should never be required to be reciprocal. It should just be reciprocal by nature. You should want to help those you care about, not feel forced to. I just thought you might need some help, so I came by to check on you, cause...well...seemed like nobody else was. And it's understandable, people get wrapped up in their own lives, but...at the end of the day, maybe, ya know...try to care about those you claim to? You can tell someone you love them all you want, but unless you show it, it doesn't mean shit."

Allie nodded, listening closely. She then leaned in and let Jenny hug her, stroking her hair. Here, hiding in the background the whole time, was the one person who genuinely wanted to be around her, and she'd never even expected it. Jenny was what Allie needed. Zoe came with so much baggage now, Molly really wanted nothing to do with any of them, and Nick...Nick wanted her to be someone she wasn't. But Jenny...Jenny just wanted to make sure Allie was okay, and didn't need anything in return.

"We're all getting together next week to see Jackson Strange's practice at his public performance soon," Allie said, "you should come. I want you to come."

"Then I'll be there," Jenny replied, patting her on the back before pulling away, grabbing her by the shoulders and looking her dead in the eyes, smiling and saying, "it isn't just a stage name, remember that. You ARE fucking astounding."

With that, she kissed her on the cheek, then grabbed her coat, and exited the suite. Allie continued sitting on the kitchen island counter, just thinking about the entire interaction. When Jenny had told her she'd had feelings for her in the hospital, Allie had been flattered, but had said she'd never really been one to be interested in women. Sure, she could see women being attractive, and sure, she had celebrity crushes like anyone else, but she never once felt any real intense interest in being in a romantic situation with another woman, not like Zoe did, and so she brushed it off. But after today...after the kindness, and the sincerity she just experienced, something she'd never once gotten from men, not even the good ones like Nick, she was feeling confused.

Allie finally hopped down and, blanket still wrapped around her, headed into the bathroom. She flicked on the lights and looked at herself in the mirror. What was she feeling? She didn't even know. All she knew was that she liked having Jenny around, was sad when she left, and wanted her to come back. Allie wasn't gay. She was still attracted to men very much. But something about the softness that Jenny had given her...that was something no man had ever managed to achieve. Allie felt safe, and not performative for once. She felt simply understood and seen, and allowed to be herself regardless of the wallowing. Men didn't like it when she wallowed. Jenny, however, just told her she would be okay. Allie sighed and blinked a few times. She was so tired. She had so much about to happen, she didn't need to be grappling with this sort of identity crisis on top of it all as well. She needed to talk to her cousin. She needed advice. But before she could do that, someone else knocked on her door. Allie left the bathroom and walked to the living room, pulling open the door and was surprised to see Salem Shaw.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she asked.

"...I'm in," Salem said, "let's rob these fuckers blind."

Jenny Gibbons was standing staring at a sign. It wasn't a large sign, maybe medium sized, and it was more of a poster than a sign proper, pasted on the wall of her workplace. It was for the Card Shark, and it featured some of the best acts; dancing girls, Effie, a new kids area, and, of course, Allie Meers. It was an older poster, clearly, because Zoe wasn't on it, but it didn't matter much to Jenny. She stared at Allie's face, and then ran her hand up to her own, remembering they looked damn near identical now. She wondered if she could convince Allie to come see Domino again. Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder and looked to her side to see her boss, Peter Lorde, standing there.

"It's spooky, isn't it?" he asked, "I really should take that thing down. You know how it is, you put up promotional banners and then forget about them because they just fade into the background."

"I don't think you should remove it," Jenny said softly, "I think it's nice."

"Well, it's ancient, it's advertising a casino that hadn't been built when it was printed," Peter said, "it would just make sense to put up something a bit more...current."

"It isn't ancient...it's a time capsule. It's a glimpse into a different moment in time that creates a sense of nostalgia. That's something people like," Jenny said, surprising Peter as she added, smirking slightly, "some people like magic."

                                                                            ***

"It's weird seeing children in a casino," Claire said, pulling the hood of her sweatshirt up a bit more over her face, adjusting the sunglasses on her face, "it's one of the few places one doesn't expect to see children. Surrounded by alcohol, gambling, all sorts of debauchery."

Allie glanced over at her and snickered, making Claire make a face at her.

"You look like the unibomber," Allie said.

"Thank you so much for your comfort," Claire replied, "I was way more inventive when it came to killing people. What are we even doing here, Meers? First you tell me you don't wanna stroll into a casino vault with me, and then you bring me here anyway. What's your plan?"

"We're meeting someone," Allie said.

The women rounded the corner and headed to one of the small restaurants tucked away in the back, near the bar. Allie and Claire continued further in, until they found a table in the very very back, where an old man was sitting in a button down shirt, a jacket and a polka dot bowtie. As the women sat down across from him, he looked up from his breakfast plate and smiled at them, reaching for his napkin and wiping his mouth daintily.

"Hello ladies," he said.

"Hi Mr. Magic," Allie said, "this is my friend, Claire."

That word...'friend'...it made Claire feel weird. Were they friends? Were they actual genuine friends? Or were they simply friends by proximity, because they both just happened to be in similar situations and willing to work with one another in order to get out of their respective crimes? To Claire, the only actual friend she'd ever had was Rachel St. Sebastian, and even that was...well, it often felt so one sided so much of the time, and that bothered her. but she always opted not to bring it up as a means of keeping the peace. So, to hear Allie call her her friend, that made Claire feel weird, but...also happy. Very very happy.

"I recognize you from the TV," Rufus said.

"So much for the disguise," Claire replied, taking the sunglasses off and adding, "do you want an autograph?

"Why is she here, Allie?" Rufus asked, cupping his hands on the table as Allie snatched some hashbrown flakes from his plate and dumped them into her mouth.

"Because," she said while chewing, "she demanded to be here, and a lot of this is partially her fault, so. Beyond that, she's had extreme practice at getting things in and out of walls."

"Yes, mostly people, if I recall the news correctly," Rufus said.

"People, items, semantics get nobody anywhere," Claire replied, shrugging, "now, let's discuss how to rob this son of a bitch."

                                                                            ***

Zoe swallowed and curled her fingers into a ball, knocking on the apartment door. After a moment of no answer, she knocked again, and this time the door opened a bit, revealing a face peaking out at her. The eyes rolled and the door unlatched, fully opening, revealing Salem Shaw standing there.

"What are you doing back here?" he asked, opening the door a bit more and allowing her to enter. She followed him into the apartment.

"I need your help," Zoe said, "or, well, we need your help. Don't worry, it's nothing ridiculous, we just need you to do one small thing for us. If you wanna get back at Raymond, then this is the way to do it."

"After what I already told you guys why would you even assume I'd want to risk that?" Salem asked, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a glass from a nearby cabinet, then running it under the sink faucet, gathering water to drink; after he finished, he added, "I mean, the guy is literally a personified death threat. He even gets wind I'm involved, and it's curtains for me, not to be dramatic."

"Well, you are a magician, dramatization is part of the job," Zoe remarked, making him smile; Zoe smiled back, then added, "...Rufus is involved."

This got Salem's attention. He put the glass down loudly on the counter and looked her dead in the eye as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

"You just say what I think you said? Rufus Heck is involved in this little plan?" he asked.

"He is," Zoe said, nodding, "and I'm sure he'd like to see you again. That's why I'm here, cause Allie's with him right now, discussing the plan. We've got a whole little team, another magician, an architect who helped build the vault under the new casino, a serial killer-"

Salem gave her the weirdest look and Zoe shook her head.

"Don't ask," she said, "it's all a very long, convoluted story. My point is that we're essentially pulling a magic heist here, and Salem, we need you. But all we need you for is the simplest of things. You aren't coming into the vault. You aren't breaking any law. Nobody will even know you're a part of it."

"Then what the hell am I doing there?" Salem asked, and Zoe grinned.

"We need you to do what you do best," she said, "we need you to do magic."

                                                                               ***

"Money was always an object to me," Claire said, picking at her teeth with a toothpick from the table, "I mean, I recognize it's value, but it was always just a thing. I mean think about it, it has, inherently, no worth. It's just paper. Metal. We, human beings, gave it the value. We assigned value to it. It, by itself, has none. Therefore it's meaningless in the grand scheme of things. So sure, I recognize that it's a necessity for survival, only because we've deemed it so, but it is just a thing, like any other thing."

"Are people just a thing to you too?" Rufus asked, and Claire shrugged.

"Some people," she said, "and I recognize that isn't the answer anyone wants to hear, but it's the truth. Those closest to me, like Allie, are not. They are important. But ordinary everyday citizens passing by on the street, people with whom I'll never share a connection to, sure, why should I care about them? If they aren't directly involved in my life, then what purpose do they get from my empathy? It's stupid. It's all stupid."

Rufus smirked and nodded, as Allie continued to eat the burger she'd ordered.

"You know," Rufus said, "before I decided to do magic as a calling, I was studying finances. Insurance. Things of that sort. After I was barred from doing magic, I went back to that interest, because the law of money has always intrigued me. You want to know something interesting? Casinos don't care if you rob them. They're insured. If you try to rob them, they're supposed to help you along with a smile and a nod and get you out of there as fast as possible. But chips...chips are different. Chips are not insured. In fact, chips have been collectibles for as long as anyone can remember, so while they are owned by the casino and not legal tender outside of the building, obviously, there is a chip collector club that meets yearly in Vegas to buy, sell and trade them."

Allie and Claire exchanged a look, confused as to where Rufus was going with this, but they stayed quiet and let him continue. He cleared his throat, took a long sip of coffee and continued.

"Because collecting chips is different than using them as currency. They aren't purchased to be used as a means of currency, but for hobby. And the thing is, since chips cost a fraction of their face value to produce, casinos love when players collect 'em, cause then they don't have to redeem them for cash, meaning they make a big profit on them, especially at the higher denominations. So imagine this, if you will..."

He leaned back in his seat and exhaled.

"You have a guy who's donating funds from his business to the governor of the state to help him run his campaign and do his work. This guy also happens to own a casino, which is where the money is coming from. But why isn't it traceable? Because it isn't cash. At least, not cash they have to mark on. Tony is funding Raymond's work with casino chips. As I said, he doesn't have to redeem them, so he makes big profit. Now the question is...where are all these chips?"

Allie and Claire waited a moment, and then said in unison.

"...the vault..."

"Bingo," Rufus said, snapping his fingers and pointing at them, "which is why it's imperative we get in there and get this information back to your law enforcement buddies."

"Goddamn," Allie said, leaning back in her side of the booth now, "...imagine how much money that would be."

"And here's the kicker, typically, the only casinos where the chips are interchangeable are those owned by the same company. For instance, if you have chips from Caesars Palace, they'll accept them at Paris, Bally's, Planet Hollywood, or any of the other Caesars properties. So you could steal or 'collect' a lot of chips from one, take them to another casino owned by the same company and exchange them there. They won't be playable, but but they will accept them. It's a whole fucked up system, honestly," Rufus said.

While Claire and Rufus discussed this, Allie simply sat and thought. Thought about what that vast amount of wealth could do for a person. She could start an entirely new life. She could leave Vegas once and for all and be happy somewhere else. She could maybe buy back Domino and take off to wherever she wanted to go.

And all she had to do was rob a casino blind.

                                                                                 ***

Zoe had had a long day.

In addition to the practice she'd put in, she'd also run a handful of errands, gathering new supplies and props, as well as doing wardrobe check up, and then of course her meeting with Salem Shaw. All she wanted to do now was get home to Molly's and relax. She knew Molly would be at Benny's and that, more often than not these days, she wound up having the house to herself as a result, something she wasn't about to complain about. As she kicked off her shoes and tossed her jacket on the couch, she was surprised when she entered the kitchen and found Effie standing over the stove, finishing cooking. Zoe stopped in the doorway as Effie turned to face her, smiling warmly.

"Welcome home," Effie said.

"What is all this?" Zoe asked, half laughing out of nervousness, "does Molly know you're here?"

"No I broke in, of course she knows I'm here!" Effie said, the both of them laughing now as Effie approached Zoe, put her arms over her shoulders and kissed her, then added, "I wanted to do something special for you. I know lately stuff has been crazy, and...and you've been so stressed out and anytime we do see eachother I can see it in your eyes, how exhausted you are. So I wanted to take care of you tonight."

Zoe wanted to cry. She never thought she deserved to be treated with such reverence, with such admiration, adoration. She didn't think she did even now, and yet here Effie was, giving her her all and then some. Zoe pushed her face into Effie's neck and Effie ran her fingers through her hair.

"You're alright, I got you, you're home and safe with me," Effie whispered.

After a moment, Zoe pulled away and sat down at the kitchen table, wiping her eyes on her arm, breathing hard from crying. Things had been so difficult and weird lately, and she didn't know how to escape it. She wanted to tell Effie everything, but she knew if she did...if she did, she'd likely lose her. What they were doing was bordering on criminal, which was ironic given the police were directly involved in working with them.

"Listen," Effie said, "I didn't just come here to make you dinner."

Zoe looked up and watched her carefully as Effie pulled up a chair and sat in front of her.

"I mean, yeah, I wanted to do that too, but there's something else," Effie continued, "something I wanna talk to you about. Do you ever think about leaving Vegas?"

"I...I don't know, why?"

"Because I've been given an offer to headline a sitcom," Effie said, "they want me to write it, produce it, be in it, the whole shebang, and to do that more effectively, I'd have to go to LA, and...and I want you to come with me. It won't be until I finish my residency here, I do have a contract with Tony and they don't have the timeslot yet anyway, so it won't be for another year at least but...but if you were interested-"

"You seriously see yourself being with me by the time that option becomes a reality?" Zoe asked, sounding broken, hurting Effie's heart. Effie reached out and took one of Zoe's hands in her own, rubbing the back of it with her thumb.

"I seriously see myself being with you forever," Effie whispered, "and that...that isn't something I've ever said to any other girl, so I know it's serious."

Zoe lit up a bit, feeling more secure. She always waited for the other shoe to drop, having been abandoned by so many people. That was, she figured, why she and Allie were so stuck like glue to one another. Neither one wanted to go through that kind of loss again, even if the relationship they had was toxic as hell. Effie reached into her pants pocket and pulled out a small box.

"And, like," she added, "not just as my girlfriend. But as my wife. If...if you're interested in that."

Effie opened the box and revealed a beautiful small diamond ring, causing Zoe's eyes to widen in shock.

"I want to marry you," Effie said, "and I know this might come out of the blue, but...no relationship I've ever had has been so easy and normal. You're wonderful, spectacular, and dammit, someone needs to spend their life making you happy and I'm gonna do that myself, so, if you want to-"

Zoe didn't even speak to respond. Instead she just kissed Effie again, the both of them laughing, as Effie slid the ring on her finger. Zoe had performed a lot of magic tricks in her day, but getting someone to want to marry her? That was by far the greatest feat she'd accomplished yet.

                                                                              ***

Allie walked to her suite door and pulled her keys from her coat pocket. It had been exhausting, dealing with Claire, and the meeting with Rufus, but everything was slowly falling into place. Soon enough they'd be in the vault, and they'd clear themselves of any wrongdoing, turning Tony and Raymond over to the proper authorities. She sighed as she put the key into the door lock, and then heard someone standing nearby. She turned to see Jenny in a long waisted black raincoat with large gold buttons standing nearby, hands in the coats pockets.

"God you really need to stop showing up like that, it's creepy," Allie said, "what are you doing here now?"

Allie opened the door and headed inside, Jenny following right behind her, shutting the door as she entered.

"At work today, my boss told me he wanted to remove a poster featuring you, from when the new casino was being built," Jenny said, "and I had to convince him not to."

"Why the fuck would you care about something as trivial as that?" Allie asked, heading to the beer and grabbing a soda from inside, popping it open and drinking it as Jenny leaned against the wall, folding her arms.

"Because in some weird way it felt like giving up a part of myself," Jenny said.

"You look exactly like me now and I gotta admit it's very unsettling," Allie said, "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm all for flattery and whatnot, but...god it's hard talking to you. Seeing you. Looking in your face and knowing it's mine. It's so goddamned jarring."

Jenny nodded, smiling slightly. Allie pulled out another soda and tossed it to her. Jenny caught it, opened it and started drinking. Together they walked to the couch and sat down on it, both drinking, sitting in silence. After a few minutes, Jenny exhaled.

"Where's Nick?" she asked.

"....he's not really around much," Allie said, "I don't know. We haven't broken up but things are always complicated between us. Sometimes it feels like he only wants to be with me if I'm a specific way and, like, if he can't love the bad parts of me, then why should I give him the good ones, you know? Complicated."

Jenny nodded, listening, sipping on her soda can. Allie finished hers, crumpled it and tossed the can onto the floor. She then shifted and leaned against Jenny, putting her head on her shoulder and shutting her eyes.

"I'm just gonna lay here for a bit," she said quietly, "it's been a long day."

"You want me to stay?" Jenny asked.

"You can," Allie whispered, yawning, already passing out, "it's kind of nice to know there's a good version of me out there."

Jenny smiled and held her hand, squeezing gently. And so they sat together, and Allie fell asleep on her, and Jenny thought back to her discussion with her boss. How much she wanted to keep that poster around. A poster from a better time. She wanted to be here, to help and to listen, to be, as Allie had put it, the 'good' version of her. The one who cared enough to keep you from doing the bad things she wanted to do. To keep her from falling back into her vices. She wanted to protect her because, from what she saw, nobody else was even doing a remotely decent job of it.

How so badly she craved to keep just a little bit of magic left in the world.