Rating: M, for Murder
Pairing: Look, do you want the various hook-ups or the true-love destiny, because either way I'm not telling you.
Sent to San Francisco to eradicate a leak, Jill, Emily and Claire wind up on the trail of a serial killer that leads them into the dark depths of the Connecticut Mafia.
Michael Logan was next and last on the list. Jill was headed there to try and intercept this Lindsay Boxer-look-alike before she killed him, or catch her afterwards. She dropped Sara at the house where she and Catherine would take another car and head back to central to try and figure out who would be next after Logan in case she was too late.
Emily and Lorelai were on their way to Gilmore headquarters. Heading into the dragon’s nest with the dragon’s only child was probably the safest way to do it, but Jill was still worried about Emily. She wasn’t worried about Claire. Claire could take care of herself.
Distracted, she didn’t notice the small red car trailing a block behind her.
* * *
“So we’ve caught one of the Cabot Assassins?”
Claire hung by her wrists from a bar on the ceiling. She still managed to look annoyed.
Madame Gilmore was a stiff woman in a twinset and pearls. But the expression in her eyes suggested she wasn’t bothered about getting blood on her outfit.
“I’m afraid assassin is not the right term.”
“You mean to say you were not involved in the killings of Tom Hogan, Warren Jacobi, and David Hodges.”
“We were investigating them, but we had not yet decided to eradicate them.”
“If you didn’t kill them, who did?”
“We are still looking into that question.”
“I don’t like that answer.”
The narrow Russian woman from before took a whip and struck Claire once across the back. Claire grunted, but didn’t cry out.
* * *
Lorelai smiled at the man beside the door.
“Don’t worry Luke, this is my friend Emily. I’m taking her to meet my mother.”
The man took off his cap and pushed his fingers through his greasy hair. “Sorry Miss, go ahead.”
“I guess you were telling the truth,” commented Emily.
Lorelai shrugged. “Yeah, it kind of sucks having everybody be your subordinate except you mom.”
Emily laughed. “You’re totally right.”
“Experience?” she asked curiously.
* * *
It was a nice house in a nice neighborhood. Jill parked and slid out of the car, testing her knee, which seemed to be better, and clicking the safety off her gun.
Just as she was about to move away from the cover of the black car, the door opened, and a woman stepped out. Dark hair, tan skin, killer smile…
“Hey, kid, are you okay?”
Jill tried to move, but every bone in her body ached, and it smelled like she was sleeping in a pile of garbage. She opened her eyes a crack. One wouldn’t open at all, but through the other she spotted a woman in a police officer’s cap.
Now she remembered, fucking crackheads. She managed to sit up. Nothing broken. It looked like the pile of garbage sacks had cushioned her fall.
“Are you alright?”
The woman was still talking to her, fucking strong accent too. “I’m fine.”
“You want to come back to the station? Coffee? A shower?”
Jill glared at the woman, who was holding out a hand to help her up. “No thanks.”
Jill stared at the hand. She felt like her life was splitting in two right here. She could take that hand and go where it led, suits, prosecution, serial boyfriends, cute reporters. Then there was the other way. A pay phone was on the corner. She had the number of the Cabots in her back pocket. Black slacks and turtlenecks, defense papers, mops and vinegar.
She ducked away from the hand, scrambling to her feet.
“Hey! I’m going to find you, kid! You can’t run away forever!”
But she only had to run to the corner. A few days later, waiting for the Cabots to figure out what they were going to do with her, a scuffle outside. One of the guys came through the door with a bloody nose.
“Some kid copper found our place. Can’t let her go. Better call upstairs.”
The woman disappeared around the corner. Jill stepped onto the sidewalk and staggered with the weight of knowing. She went to the door and opened it. Same as before, lying flat, stabbed twice in the back. She shook her head, not even caring enough to deal with the body.
A gasp came from behind her. Jill turned.
“What are you? Oh my god, what is going on?”
The little redhead was pale. Jill looked at her with a compassion she hadn’t found before. She could have taken that hand. Things could have been so different.
“I’m trying to catch a murderer.”
Cindy stared at the body. “But…”
“I’m not going to lie and say I’m with the police, because I’m not. You know that.”
“One of my skills. That’s not important. The important thing is figuring out who’s next.”
* * *
They just walk up the stairs. Everyone gives Lorelai half bows and opens doors for her.
“Here we are.” Lorelai stopped outside the last door and gave Emily a smile. No one was there to open it, so Emily did.
“Go ahead, princess.”
Lorelai stepped across the threshold, assuming an air of authority that Emily hadn’t seen before. Emily walked behind her, at her shoulder like a lieutenant.
The woman in the center of the room turns, surprise on her face. Claire, who is cuffed and dangling from the ceiling, looks shocked and horrified. Emily gives her a sympathetic smile, but it goes unnoticed.
“Can you untie my girlfriend?”
If Emily could believe it, she would say Claire looks even more horror stricken at this, and mutters, “not your girlfriend.”
“Lorelai! She’s a Cabot assassin!”
“Actually, she’s Alexandra Cabot.”
“What!” both Claire and Ms Gilmore screeched. Emily looked at Lorelai. What was she talking about?
“How did you-” Claire started, her body seeming ready to fight even though she was still bound. Emily gaped. It was true!
Lorelai gave Claire an apologetic look. “Sorry I didn’t say anything. I recognized you from those meetings, you know, before the feud started.”
“I was eleven!”
“Your facial structure hasn’t changed that much.”
Emily found the shock to be too much, and it just became absurd. She laughed, doubling over in amusement. Jill really had no idea what she was doing when she managed to hook these two up. Just another of her lucky guesses.
Ms Gilmore sighed. “Irina, take her down please.”
Claire, finally untied, stood stiffly rubbing her wrists, and glaring irrepressibly at Lorelai.
* * *