FFM: Day 8 Challenge

Shepp trained the gun on Cacey's head and stepped out of the shower cubicle. She was wearing a towel and her hair was still wet, trailing like snakes over her shoulder blades. Most people would have looked a little silly, she looked dangerous.

"Well long time no see, Cace. To what do I owe the pleasure of you breaking into my apartment?"

He smiled, a half-hearted effort at best. "Official business I'm afraid, so if you're going to shoot me, you'll have to do it later, or the Imperium might get a little upset.

"Last time I saw you, you tried to stab me."

"Last time I saw you, you tried to shoot me."

"And succeeded."

"Exactly, so wouldn't you say that makes us relatively even?" He widened the smile to show more teeth, hoping it looked winning. "I have a Seal and everything, requesting you by name."

Shepp dropped the gun, and he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Get out of my apartment, Cacey. I won't go back to the Imperium. I finished with all that when we lost the Commander. We all did, or so I thought." She turned away, dismissing him already.

Cacey sighed. It was probably too much to have expected forgiveness, even after all these years.  

"They know were John is, Shepp. They found him, and this is what we have to do to get to him back. This piece of paper and the work that's on it is their price for that information."

She froze at the name, still facing away from him, shoulders suddenly rigid. "John's been gone for three years now. He's meant to be dead. So tell me why should I believe you?"

"Because I wouldn't lie, not about this. We all would have died for him, Shepp, it wasn't just you who felt that way."

For a moment she looked disgusted, then sad, then the mask came down again, obscuring whatever she was thinking.

"It was never like that, Cace. Just because you couldn't see past your own ego long enough to believe me doesn't change that fact." She dropped the towel and started pulling on fresh clothes, dark hair wet and tangled across her bare back, all covered with scars. Only once she was dressed did she turn back to him and ask the inevitable question.

"Where is he then?"

"They say he's is Regardim, in the Flesh pits." He shrugged wearily. "Not that that's much of an improvement on being dead, but their intel looks legit. I wouldn't have come to you if it wasn't."

For a moment she looked ragged, as though she was about to cry, or fall apart, or hit something, maybe even a combination of all the above.

The great Shepp, rendered speechless. Once upon a time Cacey would have sworn he would never see the day. But life had a way of sneaking up on you and changing things when your back was turned. For the most part, that change tended to happen the hard way. It had happened to all of them.

"I'm going to pick up the whole crew. You were first on the list, next stop Jackson, then Leelee and Docket. Marsh is on cue to be picked up from the Mines on Atticus. I had to wrangle with them on that one. Apparently they don't let just anyone get out of maximum security penal facilities."

Seeing her expression, he raised a hand. "Don't ask. I don't know how he got there, suffice to say he's been stirring up a lot of trouble since the gang broke up. Up to old tricks you could say."

It wasn't really a laughing matter, but both of them smiled. Marsh had a funny way of inspiring affection.

"So. Will you come with me? It'll be like the good old days." He didn't know what he'd do if she said no, so he tried not to consider the possibility.

"No, I don't think it will be. But it will be good to be back in the sky again. And we owe it to John. Each and every one of us."

On that at least, they could agree.