A bright single light shown down harshly into Lucky Lucy's eyes.  The FBN Agent Charles Drenen's breath smelled of onions and stale cigarettes and every time he came down into her line of sight, she winced.  He, dumb ass that he was, took this to mean he was getting to her.  In truth, she could have handled the interrogation for hours... but that smell - for the love of Mother Mary and Joseph!

"So, you maintain that your husband - Frank Dicaprio, got up in the middle of the night and left you without waking you."

"Yea."  Lucy said flatly.

"He didn't tell you where he was going or who he was doing it with despite you being in a delicate medical condition."

"My husband's business isn't my concern.  I told you - I'm a house wife and mother.  I try not to put my nose into my husbands aff-"

Charles slammed his hands down onto the desk and roared into her face, "You're NOT just a wife and a mother - you were the right hand man to Chicago's biggest crime lord."  He threw down photos of Varys' body riddled with bullets.  Lucy averted her eyes but he kept at it, shouting and throwing gorey photos.  "You've got hands in more pies than I can count!  You had access to his communications, his money, you know who worked for him and when and how they were paid.  You were the backbone of The Little Birds operations!"

"I'm a wife and mother, I have a six year old-"

"A six year old girl that you suddenly had after a trip to Ireland - a child no one knew about until just recently when you and your husband," He threw down photos from the funeral home in front of her.  Frank, naked, his wounds cleaned because she'd been the one to clean them.  

"What sort of monster makes a widow look at such things?"  She said quietly as he man continued to tirade at her.

"Your husband who was a HITMAN known for his work in New York,"  He threw down a photo of a man that might have been killed by Frank, the shot was clean enough, but Frank had never been so much as taken in for questioning for any of his work.  He was clean.  He was a professional.  "Las Vegas,"  another photo of another dead man.  "and Chicago."

Lucy smiled.

"You think this is funny?"  Another voice, an unknown man, asked from somewhere in the darkness.

Drenen leaned in again, lowering his voice.  "Tell me Lucky... that's what they call you, isn't it?"

She turned and locked eyes with the foul breathed man, "The only luck I ever had was that Frank loved me."  She shook her head.  "You should be ashamed tormenting me like this - if I miscarry this child because of this harassment, you can be sure that an army of lawyers are going to sue your department for every penny it has."

"Threats, Mrs. Dicaprio?"  The man in the darkness said.

"Oh... when we talk about lawyers, it's Mrs. Dicaprio?"  Her smirk became a smile.  "More than lawyers you need to think how this is gonna play in the papers.  'Rogue FBN agent interrogates pregnant widow for hours - tortures her with gruesome photos of her beloved husband's dead body until she tragically loses her son.'  Tell me... what will your superiors say?  What will the politicians above them say?"

"If you think you can,"  Drenen began again but a hand came out of the darkness and grabbed his shoulder.  Her words had struck a cord.  

"Take her to lock up.  We can hold her for 20 more hours and believe me... Mrs. Dicaprio, you will be there for all 24 of them."  The man in the darkness said.

"You do what you need to, Officer.  I'm, after all, a law abiding citizen who wants to fully cooperate with you so you can find the person or person who did this to my husband."

"You're not getting away this time Lucky Lucy."  Drenen said, helping her out of the chair.  "Mark my words, we know what you're up to... you and this Ivory Tower of yours.  You'll flip on your new Godfather... or your kids won't only be growing up without their father, they'll be out a mother as well."

Lucy clicked her tongue as he walked her down the hallway towards the holding cells.  "You've quite the imagination Officer Drenen.  You should write dime store fiction.  You'd make a killing."

He opened the cell door and uncuffed her before putting her into the room with several other criminals who were there for questioning or transport to other facilities.

Lucy found a seat on a bench and smiled at the criminal next to her.  "Whatcha in for?"

"Seriously?  Since when was it illegal to come out of a Chocolate shop?"  Charlie was being lead to the holding cell by two officers and as one began to unlock the cell door, the other started to uncuff the short, rambunctious woman.  "Those gifts of chocolate treats better remain wrapped and untouched or there will be hell to pay.  They are more expensive than either of you make in a month!"

The office took Charlie by the arm and pushed her into the cell, a little rougher than was necessary.  It was obvious that the man was very frustrated with dealing with the loud and obnoxious woman.  "Hey is that how you should treat a woman?  Didn't your mother teach you manners?"

The man sighed and closed the door to the cell with a loud clank.

"I want my phone call.  You are suppose to give me a turn on the horn."

The officer glared at her, "You will get your phone call when one of the phones opens up." 

He turned and began to walk away and Charlie rushed to the bars taking one in each hand and yelling after him.  "WHAT ABOUT MY COAT.  DO YOU BRAINLESS IDIOTS KNOW HOW TO TURN THE HEAT ON!  IT IS FREEZING IN HERE.  THERE HAS TO BE SOME LAW AGAIN UNHUMANE TREATMENT!

When the outer door slammed shut, Charlie laughed.  "Well that was fun." 

The young woman in her mid-twenties turned around and her eyes fell on Lucy.  "Hey it looks like the First Bunch of Numnuts are throwing a party today and we are all getting invites."


She walked over to her and lowered her voice, concern weighing in her eyes, "You okay?"

Surprisingly, the hold was quiet and empty for a while; allowing the women to talk with some modicum of privacy. Upstairs another redheaded Mafiosa was getting the FBN special treatment. 

The same single lamp seared down on Jessica's matted curls. The cuffs around her wrists made it uncomfortable to sit in the hard slatted chair beneath her. Her shoulders ached; the odd position required by the handcuffs exacerbated by the myriad cuts and bruises that littered her battered body. Wiggling uncomfortably, Jes waited impatiently as the officers took their sweet and precious time. It was barely more than an hour, but in her current state, it felt like an eternity. 

Finally, after what felt like forever, two men entered the room looking serious and sombre. The smaller of the two stepped forward, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he sat down across from her. The other tossed a manilla envelope marked 'evidence' unceremoniously onto the table between them. "Do you know why you're here, Mrs. Coniglio," the shorter man asked with a look of well-played concern. 

"Because you... and your friends... drug me out of bed at an ungodly hour of the morning," Jessica retorted with a sour pout. With a heavy sigh, the man unsealed the heavy manila envelope and slid its contents out onto the table: A bloodied silk handkerchief and a similarly stained corkscrew with a splintered wooden handle.  Jes' brow arched uncontrollably as she stared down at her initials embroidered on the delicate fabric.

"Look familiar, do they?" The man asked, with a confident smile that bordered on cocky. Jess crossed her legs and did her best to angle herself away from the men; the button-down she'd been wearing as a nightshirt sliding precariously up her thigh.  "Have you been digging through my garbage, Officer?" she smirked back, holding his gaze. 

"It's detective, actually," he corrected her, "Detective Powell. And no. Someone dropped this off in our mail slot sometime late last night. It was waiting for Officer Drenen this morning when he arrived at 4:00." Again, Jes couldn't control the curious tilt of her head as she reacted to his words. "And this," he continued, fishing a dirty napkin from inside the envelope. Sliding it across the table to her, he allowed her to read the chicken-scratch message scrawled across its soiled face. 

She killed him. 

That was it? Jessica flipped it over, searching for something... anything else, but there was nothing. Tossing her curls back, Jes laughed out loud. "Detective? You call yourself a detective?" It was laughable. "What exactly are you 'detecting'?" 

The man across the table looked stern. "Officer Drenen keeps close tabs on all families with links to the mafia in the Chicago area. Gino Coniglio... your father-in-law... is Don of one such family. They're small time, but they have connections... as I'm sure you know." He locked eyes with Jes as she rolled her eyes and turned away, "I'm sure you also know that these," he motioned to the handkerchief, "are your initials." 

"Now Don Gino AND his operations have been suspiciously quiet the last few days. And now all of a sudden, this shows up on our doorstep. Literally in our laps. Just days after you and your wannabe crime boss husband roll into town." Again, Jessica laughed. 

"You've got nothing Powell. I'll happily admit those are my initials. Because that's MY handkerchief..." The other officer slammed his hands down on the table, a little overzealous... clearly a rookie. "So you DO admit it," he hollered in her face, looking triumphant and overly sure of himself. But Detective Powell gave the boy a harsh look, waving him off the table. 

"No. Cazzo idiota. Let me finish." She turned to Powell, completely ignoring the other younger officer, "It's mine. And so is the corkscrew. I tripped and knocked over the downstairs wine cabinet. I banged myself up pretty good, as you can see. And I cut up my hand." She upturned her hand, showing him one of the MYRIAD cuts on her palm. "I used the handkerchief to help stop the bleeding. Both it and the corkscrew were thrown out with everything else that broke in the crash." 

"And the fact that your father-in-law is still missing... that you were sleeping in his bed?" The man continued to smirk as she smiled sweetly, leaning as far over the table as she could with her arms cuffed around the chair behind her back. 

"We're IN town because Gino was called home to tend some businesses he owns in Sicily. Check the outgoing flights at Chicago Municipal. Had you done any detecting before arresting me, you'd know he was on a flight out the day after we got here. Roger was asked to take over his holdings in the states for the time being. Including his home. So yeah... Master of the house sleeps in the master bedroom. Stronzo." 

"And the letter?" the younger man asked. Jessica smirked at him. "Do you know anything about Sicilian men, young buck," she veritably spat at the man, who shook his head. "Well suffice it to say they don't play well with others. Especially women. And ESPECIALLY  women in power. Is it really so difficult for you to imagine that one of those old conservative fucks would capitalize on my little accident to pull a stunt like this... counting on you to play right into their hands? You're just doing their dirty work for them." 

She turned away from both of them, "Whatever evidence you think you have is flimsy at best. And I dare say falsified. How are you going to feel going before a judge knowing that you were fed BS evidence from corrupted sources against a helpless and mentally fragile woman?" She glared at him for a moment, "What's the press gonna say? Who knows... maybe I got some of these bruises while I was in this room with you." 

The younger man leapt toward her, just in time to have the door swing open. An older man with salt-and-pepper hair grabbed him by the collar as he came through the door; his badge displayed prominently on his belt. "That's enough! We can still hold her. But you have to go to the judge with the charges yourself, Powell. I'm not backing you up on this one. If you go through with this, it's your ass. For now, you're done. Take her down to lock up. We'll discuss this more when your rookie's cooled off a bit." "Yes, Sir," was all that Powell said as he drug her from the room, cutting off any argument from the younger man with a simple glare. 

The air was breezy, to say the least, as he lead her - barefoot and half-dressed - into the lockup. The suit shirt she was wore was about four sizes too big. And while it covered almost to her knees, it was by no means modest or warm. Her skin prickled as she was shoved roughly into the quickly crowding cell. As the cuffs clicked open, she wrapped her arms around her chest to hide her body from being visible beneath the thin fabric of the button-down. "Ladies," she greeted the women with a wry smile before turning back to the officer who'd drug her in. "You gonna at least offer a girl a uniform?" She smirked at him, unfolding her arms and watching as his gaze drifted chestward, "It's awfully chilly, you know." The man stared for a moment before setting his jaw and turning away. "Can't help you," he stated flatly, doing his best to hide a tickle of a smirk as he closed the door behind him. 

Lucy gave a meek smile to Charlie, "Oh it'll take a lot more than hot head and a very strong beam of light to break me. Especially now that I have a friend here."  She watched Jessica being hauled in and arched an eyebrow at Charlie, as if to ask silently 'do you know what that's all about' but Lucy didn't speak.  Instead she watched with a small bit of amusement as things play out and only after getting a very good look at Jessica did the look on her face slowly change to that of a woman deep in thought.  Then realization dawned.  Lucy stood up and gave Charlie a look that suggested she should pay attention to what was about to occur.  

Lucy slid out of her coat, a long wool black coat that was chosen to match her black shoes and modest black dress - the garb of a woman in mourning.  The dress was an old one she used for funerals but it had become a staple in her daily wear rotation since Varys' and Frank's deaths.  Like many of her dresses it was fast becoming snug and she was soon going to need to take it to a seamstress.  The barest swell in her lower abdomen was beginning to be noticeable and while most took it for her putting on a bit of weight in the wake of becoming a widow, it would not be long before everyone knew what she'd been keeping to herself & her closest friends and family.

"The disrespect shown to women by this department has reached shameful levels."  She offered the coat to Jessica.  "Leaving you to stand around in such a state..." She clicked her tongue.  "And they call us criminals."

Assuming Jessica takes the coat she offers her hand, "Lucy.  Nice to meet you."

Jessica took the coat with a grateful, but sheepish, smile. "Jessica," she nodded, shaking Lucy's hand, "And I assure you the pleasure is all mine." For a brief moment, Jes held onto Lucy's hand; her eyes evaluating her red curls, dark circles, and the faint lines etched at the corners of her tired eyes. Her smile changed a little as she dropped Lucy's hand - a look of conjecture tinged with idolizing respect and cautious apprehension. 

Cinching the coat tightly around her slim waist, Jes took a seat on one of the benches that lined the wall leaving room for Lucy and Charlie if they wanted to sit, too. Her bare feet swung under the bench, not quite touching the floor. "Are you sure you won't be too cold,"  she asked, glancing up at Lucy with green eyes filled with compassion. "I'd hate for you to be uncomfortable on my account." 

Glancing over at Charlier, Jes nodded shyly, "Hi there." 

She looked small and timid, curled up on the bench with her feet swinging with a childlike nervousness. Given her cool reaction to Detective Powell, it was clear this wasn't her first time in a locked room. But the anxiety oozing off her gave both women the impression that she wasn't exactly used to being in police custody. 

"So... um... what are you in for," Jes asked with a nervous chuckle, unsure if that was even an acceptable question under the circumstances. She was so new to all of this... could people even talk about that kind of stuff, or did it violate some unspoken rule? Biting her bottom lip, she hoped her new cellmates might shed a little light on that... if they didn't shank her first. ... surely Lucy wouldn't put a hole in her own coat, would she?? 

Lucy laughed for the first time in a week.  She felt it echo in her chest; but the laugh died on her lips as the feeling that she'd betrayed Frank for being happy so soon after his death crept up out of nowhere.  She sighed.  "This is my dearest friend Charlie."  She said motioning to her friend.  "Charlie, this is Jessica Coniglio."  

Lucy didn't give Jessica time to ask how she knew her surname - instead she launched into an explanation she thought would help both Charlie and Jessica understand without letting out too much in mixed company.  "The FBN seems to think I'm more than just a widow and mother... they've cooked up this incredible story about how I'm the former Right Hand Woman to the Godfather of all of Chicago."  She shrugs.  "And, they seem to think I've recently set up, and am now recruiting talent for a family of my own operating off The Loop, under the new boss of all bosses."

She shakes her head as if that was just a silly idea.  "And to add insult to injury they're holding me on the premise that I might know something about the brutal murder of said late Godfather of Chicago and ... my late husband who was gunned down not long ago.  They think if they keep me like this long enough I'll turn rat on this new boss of all bosses... of course, I can't rat about things I know nothing about."

Lucy folded her hands into her lap.  "I am, however, acquainted with your Father-In-Law who is a feared and respected man in these parts.  And by extension, I happen to know of his son... and the beautiful spitfire he married against his family's wishes."  Lucy gave Jessica a sympathetic look.  "For what it's worth - that's some husband you got... standing up to a man like his father is no small thing.  You take good care of that one, and I bet he'll take good care of you too."

Charlie picked up on the carefully chosen verbiage and nodded her understanding.  "It is a pleasure to meet you.  To be honest I have no idea why I am in here.  Apparently it is a crime to shop at a Chocolate shop in this city.  All they told me is that the want to ask me some questions so who knows.  All I know is that once my fiancee's lawyers gets here they will be wishing they would have chosen a different profession."  

Charlie smiled and placed her hands on her hips defiantly.  Oh she going to give it to them when they hauled her into interrogation.  Especially now that she knew a bit more about why she was in here.

Muffled shouting by multiple voices could be heard coming from down the hall, and as they closed in and became louder you could hear thuds of resistance as well. It was quite obvious that someone was making one hell of a stink with the guards as they made their way down the hall. Jessica's ears might perk up as she'd hear a familiar cadence in the loudest voice, coming in clearly as the doors burst open. Two guards and a single man in cuffs throwing what little weight he had around... Funnily enough, it gave the guards hell.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP CONIGLIO AND KEEP MOVING!" The guards shoved the man forward, sending him rushing toward the cell doors. He feet moved quickly under him to keep himself off the floor as he slammed hard into the hard, metal bars with a loud clang. He stood himself up straight and yelled back, preparing to charge the bastards... Probably not the first time either.

"YA AIN'T GOT NO REASON TA HOLD ME, SCAPATORI! FUCKIN' TOLD YA GINO'S BE ON A GOD DAMNED BUSINESS TRIP! JUST TAKE ME TO SEE JE-" As he pushed off the bars, he caught a glimpse of Jessica in the corner of his eye and skidded to a stop turning around.

"Oh, hey girl." He grinned big. "That coat looks good an ya! Bet those cuffs did too." He winked playfully. "Don't worry. I'll get ya o-"

Roger got smacked in the back of the head mid sentence, and all three women would see the switch flick that most Sicilian born men had. His head snapped back and slammed in to one of the guard's head, sending him reeling back with a steady flow of blood on the floor.

"THERE! NOW YA HAPPY!? NOW YA GOT A FUCKIN' REASON TO HOLD ME!" The other guard grabbed his nightstick and smacked Roger across the lower back hard, taking him to a knee. The quick intake of breath told everyone it hurt, but together the two guards subdued him to the floor before getting him back up and escorting him further down the hallway toward his own cell...

"SHUT UP RUGGIERO! I'M WARNIN' YA!" The bloody-nosed guard yelled out.

"DON'T WORRY DOLLFACE! I'LL GET YA OUT! I PROMISE! I PROMIIISSSE! DON'T LET THESE LECCACULO CAZZI BULLY YA!"

Turning to the guards he spat in their face, "Vaffanculo é tua madre, figlio di puttana! A fanabla!"

The two guards shoved him through the other set of doors at the other end of the hallway and they were back to the muffled yells, until they faded.

The two guards would come back through a bit later, BOTH of their noses and lips bloodied with one favoring his right leg heavily, escorted by a senior guard who simply offered Jessica a wink as they passed by. The name on his uniform read 'Oakes'... Where had Jess heard or seen that name before?

Jes stiffened a little as Lucy gave her Charlie full name. But as Lucy continued to talk, she relaxed... a little... a bigger picture forming in her mind. So it wasn't just about her and Gino. There was obviously a bigger play being made here. "Just wait 'til you hear the rest of that sto...ry," She trailed off distractedly as voices began to echo down the hallway; bristling with recognition and worry. 

To her surprise and chagrin, Roger was hauled through the doors in typical Coniglio fashion. Bolting from her seat on the bench, Jes' bare feet slapped against the cold concrete floor as she made for the bars; clinging to them with one in each hand. The movement was just enough to get his attention, and her eyes lit up as he smiled goofily at her. Nuzzling him through the bars, she reassured him, "I'm okay, Honey Bunny. I'm okay. I already told 'em... don't worry. We'll be outta here in a jiffy. They got nothin' to hold us on." 

Her brightness dimmed a little when he mentioned the coat.  "It's... um... It's Lucy's," she whispered, inclining her head toward the woman in black with a special kind of emphasis. 

Their would-be conversation was cut short with a sharp smack from one of the guards. And Jes whimpered softly, following Roger to the floor. Arms through the bars, she reached for his cheek, but the guards were on both of them in mere minutes. Roger briefly kissed her palm as he was hauled to his feet; her hand closing around the sensation as a nightstick cracked down across her knuckles with a sharp smack. Jes yelped, yanking her hands back through the bars. Tears stinging her eyes as her already busted and battered knuckles split open yet again. 

Screaming and swearing – in more ways than one – Roger was drug through the opposite set of doors, toward the men's lockdown. And after a few moments, the unit was eerily silent again. Angrily drying her face to hide her emotion, Jes turned to Lucy with a pained expression of sympathy and remorse. "I'm... uh... I'm so sorry," she offered, rubbing the back of her bloodied knuckles anxiously, "that you had to see that... after... um..." 

Jes' bleary eyes trailed the floor, the bench, the bars, the walls; looking everywhere but directly into Lucy's gaze. How did one apologize for something like that? "I'm just really sorry," Jes whispered, moving back to her seat on the bench. 

Her eyes darted uneasily around the room as it remained painfully, awkwardly quiet. It was too quiet for Jes, the pace of her swinging feet betraying her inner turmoil. Trying to break the silence, she softly offered her own explanation. "Detective Powell is under the impression I'm more than just a trophy wife. Thanks to some bogus 'evidence' dropped off here by one of our bastardly quote-unquote family members,” she made finger quotes in the air,“He's cooked up this absurd yarn about how I killed my father in law... with a corkscrew."  She chuckled, shaking her head as if that was the single most ridiculous idea she’d ever heard. "And, they seem to think I'VE convinced Roger to set up in his place. As if a woma...." Jes stopped short, laughing out loud, given the current company.

Clearing her throat, she regrouped and continued, "Three days in the city and I'm suddenly some supposed crime-queen mafiosa recruiting talent for a family of my own. They’re convinced I'M operating out of Riverside, under the new Don there. How preposterous is THAT?”

She shrugged lightly with an innocent smile, "I already told them Gino's in Sicily on business. I explained how much he wants me out of the family. I even requested the passenger manifest for his flight, but they just won't listen. Idioti." Musical laughter echoed off the bare brick walls, Jes’ curls bouncing along with the sound, “They’re absolutely positive that if they just hold me here long enough… put on displays like that,” she waved to the doors where Roger had been taken, “that I’ll roll over on this new Don. But everyone knows you can’t snitch on someone you’ve never met.”

She smirked up at Lucy and Charlie, her eyes sparkling with evocative mischief, “Am I right?”

Lucy watched Roger and Jessica interacting - flirting even in such a place as this!  She winced as Roger smashed his head against the face of the guard after he'd hit him one too many times, and worst of all in front of Jessica.  It was something Frank would have done if some cop had put hands no him too roughly in front of her, damn Sicilian temper.  Why if Frank was here right now...

But Frank wasn't here.  Frank would never be here again and she needed to get that through her thick skull and stop thinking about him as if he were.  Lucy looked at the floor a moment, gathering her thoughts as Jessica came back to the bench and spoke.  When the other red head was done, Lucy replied,  "Of course.  You simply can not remark about things you know nothing about.  These twits need to get that through their thick skulls.  Perhaps when my lawyers arrive the won't be so damn smug about all they think they know."  

She looked up to Jessica, "I'm glad to hear that your father-in-law's businesses took him back to the Old Country.  He was too heavy handed with his people by half and word on the street was that he might have been skimming off the top of his operational funds before giving due to his backers; even as a simple housewife and mother I know that's bad business."

She smirked.  "It's probably for the best he's gone.  It'll give you and that husband of yours a time to shine... of course..." Lucy hesitated and lowered her voice but still was careful to say nothing that would admit her ties to the mob.  "Northside... I think I once heard my husband speaking to someone about Miss Mandy running her businesses up there.  Way I hear tell, things are tight in the neck of the woods... but if what the FBN is saying is true about this Godfather Varys being gone; I would suppose that means The Loop would be open for business to those of a mind to make a name for themselves."

Lucy's stomach growled, she looked to Charlie, "Do you happen to have any of those chocolates you mentioned earlier.  The minute you said Chocolate I was dying for one!"  

Jes perked at the name dropping. She didn't know much about Chicago, just enough to keenly appreciate the situation in which she'd been placed. The humour of it all struck her with a unique hilarity, and again tinkling laughter danced through the cell. Softly at first, but gaining tempo and volume the more she thought about it. 

"This," she continued giggling, spreading her arms wide at the room around them, "This is the worst idea ever?!"  She looked up at the other two hoping eventually they'd get the joke... though she was no stranger to laughing alone. "If we're all sooooo dangerous," she chuckled, wiggling her fingers ridiculously, "then why the hell would you put us in the same cell together?" 

When you stopped to think about it, it really was absurd. Clearing her throat, she forced herself to look calm and serious,  "They must be really desperate."  She smiled at Charlie, "Social networking in lock up. I dig it. I'd be more than pleased to meet... well... all your friends." Jes' smile turned a little sheepish,  "I don't really have any of my own. So I'd be ever so indebted if either of you would consider... I dunno... showing me around?" There was more to the simple statement than met the ear as Jess gave both of them a poignant look. 

"I'd kill for a girls day at the spa. Is there even a spa around here? Oh, and I saw this beautiful lighthouse on the flight in that I'm just dying  to visit."   It wasn't as smoothe as it could have been, of course. She was obviously new to all this. But with any luck, the ladies would get it and the guards wouldn't. And that was enough. Even if her execution was a little juvenile for one of their ilk. 

"There are several long the Lake Michigan coastline."  Lucy remarked as if nothing about Jessica's words had caught her attention.  "I hear that they give tours of the ones that belong to the coast guard and the city.  However, the privately held ones... you have to know the owner to get into those and that can be tricky without the right friends; but you... I think you'd have no problem working it out.  You and your husband have a good reputation with the type of people who own property in this town.  I suspect you'd get right in - no questions asked."

Lucy looked to Charlie.  "You know, she does bring up an interesting point though..."  She looked around the room, this time with more intention.  Who WERE these other women?  Did she know them all?  She should know most of them - anyone the FBN was paying attention to was someone big enough for her to know.  And yet... some of these faces were new to her.

Son of a bitch they put under covers in here hoping we'd sing if we were allowed to 'gossip' with fellow gal criminals!

Lucy didn't know if she should be more offended that they thought her an idiot who would ramble off state's evidence at the first sign of a friendly face - or at the fact they figured the best way to work over a woman was to put her in a cell with other 'chatty cathy types.'

Lucy 'lowered' her voice and took on a serious tone.  If the coppers wanted some juicy details - she'd GIVE them some juicy details that would at least make Tyler Durden's people have a harder go at her than before.  "We SHOULD share all our friends with Jessica here... in fact, maybe we should let her in on Godfather Tyler Durden's latest plan now that he's in charge over Chicago operations?"

Lucy smirked at Charlie wondering what the woman would make up - if she caught on to what Lucy had.  

THIS could be fun.

Charlie's eyes danced with amusement.  "I am sure Tyler Durden, Marla Singer, and Robert Paulson would love to meet her.  Did you know that he is currently staying at the Drake.  I hear they have a great restaurant there!"  She moved to sit down on the bench and leaned back against the cold wall.  

Lucy was about to speak when one of the women across the way piped up.

"Why don't you should shut your dago-wop mouth over there!"  One of the inmates snapped at Charlie.  "Flappin' your gums about people you don't know nothin' 'bout!"  Lucy and her new companions all looked towards the Moll with nest-like unwashed mousy hair who had spoke up.  She was of some northern European blood, and her accent was definitely east coast.  Her balled up fists and the tilt of her head suggested she was picking for a fight.  Charlie's words weren't just made up lies to send the FBN on a wild good chase...

Fuck me.  Charlie ACTUALLY knows where Durden is!  Well, at least now I know which one is the cop and which ones aren't.  Just our luck that at least one of the women I didn't know would from Durden's crew.

The two women next to her on the bench stood up.  A peroxide blonde of Mediterranean descent with only slightly better hygiene and a small Asian girl whose face was a mess of old scars - they both stood up with her.  Of the three, the Asian was the smallest, but she looked the toughest by far.

"Whatchu lookin' at ya dumb Mick!?!"  Snarled the blonde with a Sicilian accent so thick that it was clear the girl was new to these shores and was trying all she could to hide her heritage.  Lucy decided to respond to her racist slur against her mother's people in her father's tongue - a language she was sure the blonde spoke better than English.

"Guarda la tua lingua o potrei tagliare e darlo a te come regalo di Natale"  Which, roughly translated, told the twit that if she kept speaking to her so insultingly she'd cut out her tongue and give it to her for Christmas.  Lucy smiled at the woman, almost hoping that she'd come swinging.  Lucy had a lot of anger and precious few good outlets for it.

The final woman in the cell, who was now clearly some poor gal from the FBN steno-pool sent in to gather information by just listening to the mobsters talk, now looked terrified.  She backed herself up against the bars.  

"That Mick's Lucky Lucy Dicaprio."  The mousy moll explained to her blonde friend.  "Or... should we call you Fazzone now?"  The woman smirked as her Asian friend broke into a ruckus laughter; making her hand into the shape of a gun, she pretended to shoot the mousy moll.  In response the mousy moll began to act out an over-exaggerated a death by hail of bullets.

The women seemed to be implying that they had intimate knowledge of Frank's death.  Lucy steeled herself.  They were taunting.  They were lying.  Surely there was no way in hell the Universe would have actually put her in a room with women who had seen Frank die.  This was a well-played rouse to get her to lose her cool and to stop them from talking about Durden - surly it was.

"GUARD!  GUARD PLEASE!"  the undercover steno-gal called out for guards who were unlikely to come for anything short of a riot.

Then the mousy-haired woman made the biggest mistake of her very short life - while flopping around like a fool, she said something that caused Lucy's breath to catch and her heart skip a beat.  It was just one word.  A single word spoken that made it all the more likely that this evil bitch HAD seen Frank's final moment or at least spoke at length with someone who had.  "Lucia!"  The woman pretended to sob.  

Lucy, a scrapper from the streets in her youth, didn't think twice about pushing up the sleeves of her mourning dress and crossing the space between them in a blink.  Lucy knew Charlie was right on her heels, maybe planning to stop her - but she didn't care.  She was going to bloody this woman's nose before being stopped at least!

Lucy's right hook held all the pent up rage over Frank's death which she'd been holding in with no good person to loose it upon.  Sure enough a satisfying spray of blood exploded from the mousy moll's nose. 

The peroxide blonde was right there - before Lucy could have hoped to dodge her blows.  Luckily Charlie was fast on her feet and put herself between the blonde and Lucy taking the blow for her before throwing a left and right of her own. 

Lucy had no time to consider where the Asian woman was as she moved out of the way of the mousy moll's next onslaught.  The whole cell block exploded into cheers, "FIGHT! FIGHT!"  "GET HER!"  "WATCH OUT!"  Steno-gal was calling desperately for the guards now, but her voice was buried under the roar of blood-thirsty criminals being held in cells.

"Lucia." The spiteful venom behind that single word made Jes' skin crawl. And as she witnessed the effect it had on Lucy, it twisted her insides in a way that hurt her heart and made it hard to breathe. Jessica wasn't a part of Chicago, at least not yet. She hadn't been here when Varys fell. It wasn't her blood, sweat, and tears that were stolen away. It wasn't the love of her life who had died by his side. But watching Lucy as she charged across the cell, she felt that pain and that rage as keenly as if it had been. 

Charlie was hot on Lucy's heels, leaving Jes alone on the bench as the others closed in on each other. It took a moment for the weight of the situation to sink in as she watched Charlie exchange blows with the peroxide blonde. Shrugging out of Lucy's coat, Jes braced herself for the decision that had to come next. At first, she hesitated, not entirely sure she wanted to thrust herself onto the main stage of Chicago's biggest conflict. But, as something glinted from the corner of her eye all of that changed. 

It felt as though time slowed and stretched as the wheels in Jes' head squealed to a singular screaming conclusion. 

Charlie wasn't just taking blows for Lucy, she was protecting her. Lucy was crouched low, guarding herself. She willingly took several blows to the head to avoid getting hit any lower... despite the mousey moll's best efforts. "Oh shit," Jes whispered under her breath, shoving her way past Charlie and Blondie as the Asian woman made a move for Lucy.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh... YEEEE!" Jes yelped as she slid between Lucy and the Asian, a sharp prison shank slicing down across her blocking wrist.  "You bitch!" she said, sounding a bit shocked... as if there were any rules in a prison fight. The dark-haired woman across from her paused and laughed in her face... just long enough for Jes to land a single solid punch.  Her knuckles cracked as they collided with the woman's nose, an abrasive heat spreading across her already busted knuckles. 

The woman's head snapped backwards, sending her stumbling to the floor. Their blood mixed in splatters across the bare concrete as Jes shook her hand pathetically.  "Okay... umm...."  Jes wasn't a fighter. She had no idea how to handle herself the way Charlie and Lucy did. Staring down at the torn and darkening fabric of her shirt, she nursed her bleeding arm with a pout... just long enough for the woman to recover and take a crawling swing at her achilles. Again Jes yelped, hopping back out of the way as the woman grabbed for her arm, ripping off the rest of the sleeve in the process.  "Let go... let GO!" Jes kicked her solidly in the face. The woman took the blow with shocking stride. Growling softly as she tackled Jes to bars of the cell. Her red head smacked sickeningly against the hard metal crossbar; the world around her exploding into a flash of bright colour on impact. 

The blow knocked her senseless for a moment, the Asian woman taking the opportunity to press the advantage. Hands around Jes' throat she growled lowly, the stench of her breath smothering as she leaned in close, "You made a big mistake today, girly. You don't know the kind of enemies you've made." Jes' arm shot up again, sliced to ribbons by repeated, angry blows from the Asian Durden; blinded by her bloodlust. 

The atomic blonde screamed from across their cell, just as Jes was losing consciousness, "Get the widow!" 

Air rushed painfully back into Jessica's lungs as the woman turned away from her. Coughing and wretching, Jes laid a gentle hand on her already bruised throat. Why did everyone go for her throat lately?? She barely had time to adjust to the influx of oxygen, though, as her boxing partner made another move on Lucy. 

For a split second Jessica wondered if it wouldn't be better to just let it happen... not out of any sense of hate or loathing... but so Lucy could be at peace. But as Lucy took a solid hit to the gut, her mind quickly made itself. "Oh no you don't," Jes growled, lunging for the torn sleeve of her shirt laying forgotten on the cellblock floor. With a near Amazonian shriek, Jes spider-monkeyed the woman rushing Lucy, with the best garrote she could manage. Her hands wrapped tightly around the soft pique fabric, as the Durden stumbled backwards into one of the cell's benches. 

Jes leveraged her weight, pressing back against the bench as she struggled to control her flailing opponent. "Stop it... stop it.. just STOP IT!" Jes shrieked at the woman... as if that would ever actually happen. With a sharp tug, everything went silent as the razor in the woman's hand clattered to the floor. Jes froze for a moment, needing that time to compute what just happened before climbing apprehensively from the bench. The tattered white fabric still wrapped around one fist, Jes gingerly picked up the would-be knife with a look of macabre curiosity. 

The wheels in her head spun as she looked for the knife to the mousey moll. It was the perfect opportunity... but then, that wouldn't bring Lucy any vengeance. Keeping a careful eye on Charlie and Blondie, Jes prowled her way around the perimeter of the cell, carefully positioning herself as closely behind the mousey moll as she could manage.

One arm slipping around the woman's shoulder for a choke hold, Jes dropped the make-shift blade at Lucy's feet, with a telltale glance. The choice would be hers. 

I was about to enter a store for some Christmas shopping, when I was pulled back and what felt like the barrel of a gun to my back. I could not see of course who it was, so I managed to turn loosening the grip, and saw it was an officer. I stared him down and asked plainly what his deal was. He said,  "You need to come with me, and that is not a suggestion, but a direct order." ( as if that was gonna make me do anything)

I said, "whatfor? I did not do anything illegal here, so what is your problem?" He was starting to make a scene, so I went with him, mostly unwillingly. When the car stopped, we were at the police station. He open the door to the car and practically dragged me out kicking and screaming. I was gonna make him work to take me in.. I was a fighter, not a lover when it came to these things (and  just had bought these nice versache clothes and shoes.. not cheap, mind you).

He drags me into the station, still not telling me anything. Of course I am badgering on him the whole way. Then I see them. I see Jess and Lucy, and still not putting it together yet, I watch them with my eyes , debating on using the heel of my shoes to step on this cop's foot to worm myself away, but thought against it as Lucy and Jess would still be here. 

I get dragged into an interview area.. you know the ones with a desk, chairs and that two way mirror the cops don't think anyone knows about but law enforcement. I am practically tossed into the chair, almost falling on the floor, the bastard cop, this guy. He immediately asks if I know "a Frank"?

 I said, "Well, duh, who doesn't? It is a pretty common name."  

 He said, "cute, you think you are so funny, little girl."

Of course the little girl comment pissed me off , and I told him as much. He then asked about ...

 "Frank from the bird crew ." ( I laughed) 

"The bird crew, what is that?", I said ( obviously he was not good at this)

He dragged me from the chair, laughing I said, "what you didn't like my response to your stupid questions?" 

I was tossed into the cell with Lucy and Jess. Noticing they were in a scuffle with this asian girl, I quickly picked up the blade and handed it to Lucy in a sly fasion as to not attract attention, which a smile on my face as I looked at Lucy.

Screams.

The red haze of rage.

Lucy kept moving.  Dodging, weaving, her mind focused only on one thing - pain.  The pain she felt and the pain she wanted this bitch to feel.  Her father had given her the name Lucia, but Frank - he'd made that name holy.  It wasn't for the filthy tongues of soulless whores such as this.  

The impacts to her face were good - they kept her thinking, kept her sharp.  She smiled with each one, like a mad woman, unnerving her opponent with her irrational desire for pain.  This kind of pain, physical pain, was nothing compared to the ache inside her heart every minute of every day since Frank's death.

The deafening roars of the other prisoners only made Lucy throw her fists harder.  The more they encouraged and supported her - the more the red head ate it up.  Then, when Jessica's bloodied arm came across her opponent in a choke hold, a wicked smile crossed Lucy lips and she increased her viciousness. 

One, then another, and another blow shattered the moll's face. Jessica tried to make Lucy notice the knife, but the place Lucy entered in her mind wasn't one of rational thought.  The animal brain that controlled every action Lucy took - the one that protected her belly without thinking, the one that happily had her eye cut open by punch after punch, the one that licked the blood from her lips - it wasn't a part of her which caught subtly at all. 

This, perhaps, is the reason why Lei's entrance to the cell was utterly unexpected to Lucy.  The woman, a member of her just forming crew, offered her the shiv Jessica had tried to point out, discreetly, as the guards who threw her into the cell went to a nearby wall and uncoiled a fire hose.  Lucy would have snatched the shank from Lei and jabbed it into the the object of her rage repeatedly, but for the cell being sprayed down with ice cold highly-pressurized water.  To the floor all the women went in a heap, gasping for air, reveling in the pain they were dishing out and receiving in equal parts.

Lucy, sputtering and coughing from the water was brought back to her senses.  It was as if she'd run headlong into a wall when the water hit her.  Looking to Lei who lay near her, still holding the shank which had been used to slice up Jessica's arm.  They'd try to pin it on Lei... the FBN would say it was attempted murder and so wouldn't need Jessica to press assault charges and if Durden had a corrupt officer in the mix - she'd go up river for a long time.  

There was no way in hell that Lucy was letting that happen. 

Glancing back to the guards, making sure they weren't looking, Lucy snatched the shank from Lei and made a motion for her to be silent as the guards came in and began putting each of the women into hand cuffs.  They'd likely be kept that way, under more guards, and searched again now that Jessica was presenting with wounds caused by a sharp edge. 

When they found Lucy with the shank she'd be hauled out and probably put to the question again - this time with the promise to make it an assault charge as opposed to an attempted murder rap if she'd just sing about Varys and who the new Godmother of Chicago was.  It wasn't a great situation, but they would do that for Lucy who had so much to tell... poor Lei would get no such offer as they'd assume she had nothing worth trading.  She'd just get a long prison sentence and all for trying to help Lucy stab that Durden bitch.  Lei was one of her Associates.  She couldn't let it come to that.

One by one they were picked up off the floor and either put on the wall or taken for medical attention.  As expected, one of the agents noticed Jessica's wounds and more guards came in - soon the pat downs would happen.  Lucy hid he shank up her sleeve as best she could and looked around as best she was able. 

The steno-gal, the suspected undercover agent, had gone out at some point - though Lucy didn't know when.  She watched as Jessica was pulled aside and first aid was being given to treat her wounds.  Even Charlie was getting cloth full of ice for the nasty bruises she'd gotten.  The unconscious Durden, the Asian, was hauled out by two agents - most likely to receive attention from a doctor.

When the agents picked her up and patted her down, as expected, they found the shank and took it from her.  "Looks like someone's luck just ran out.  Come with us Mrs. Dicaprio... maybe now you'll be a bit more willing to talk."

Durden's remaining gals laughed and heckled as she was hauled away.

"This conversation isn't over."  Lucy promised the mousy moll.  Oh!  How she wanted that woman to bleed more!  She wished she knew the future dead woman's name.

"I'm looking forward to it, Lucia."  The moll blew her a kiss and then through the door into the main offices Lucy went once more, unable to see or hear anything said or done behind her in the cells.