| In Memorium |
[11 Sep 2008|01:14am] |
Jill couldn’t believe she was getting choked up like this.
She stood on the sidewalk outside of her apartment building, glancing up at the American flag hanging before one of the nearby office buildings. The flag was half-staff, and as she checked her watch, the agent noticed she wasn’t the only one stopped in her tracks.
It was 7:46 in the morning, central time. Twelve years ago to the minute, the world changed.
Hyperbole that wasn’t; Jill couldn’t remember what she’d been doing that Tuesday morning when news first broke across CNN. Maybe she was brushing her teeth, getting ready for her Advanced Civics class. Or maybe she had still been in bed, and her roommate Norah woke her with the news.
That didn’t matter. All Jill remembered was frantically picking up the phone, making sure the few people still in her life were alright. She was on the phone with David Gregor for three hours; he told her the D.C. branch of Wolfram & Hart evacuated the moment the first plane hit in New York. Though the firm itself wasn’t a likely target, its proximity to the Capitol was cause for concern.
Jill remembered not going to a single class that day, too glued to the TV to see what was going to happen next. She watched the second plane, she watched the buildings fall, and she wept. It wasn’t until the following day Jill realized she hadn’t missed any classes – because the rest of the school had been doing much the same things.
Jill remembered being hurt and touched that day, seeing how humanity came together in such a scary time. She wept when President Bush came on TV and made his first remarks, at once grieving the country’s losses and confident the bad guys would be caught.
Humanity … something Jill had only rediscovered within herself over the past year. No longer bound to Wolfram & Hart’s shackles, the agent was now serving her country in scary and uncertain times. It sickened Jill to hear the mainstream media try to compare vampires to terrorists, as if there was actually some parallel between the worst terrorist attack ever on U.S. soil and a house of vampire victims found by the police the day before.
The wind was calm, as if nature itself was also grieving for the moment. A chill ran down Jill’s spine, and she was reminded again that as a federal agent, she served that flag. She wasn’t going overseas with a gun and a platoon, but she was still doing her part to keep the country safe. She smiled at that, feeling the tears sitting on the edges of her eyes.
Remembering that day hurt, but she was glad for the feeling. To be able to feel this way felt like a victory of sorts, and Jill took a moment to breathe deep, standing a little straighter as some around her began walking and going about their lives again. Leaving their families for the day, earning a paycheck so they could provide for those they loved.
With any luck, they would return to their families later that night. Hug them, give them kisses, tell them how much they cared for and loved them.
But 12 years ago, nearly 3,000 people never got that chance. Jill mourned for them, and after a moment of silent prayer, she kissed the cross hanging from her neck. Staring once more at the flag, she felt a tear fall from each eye.
She didn’t bother wiping them away.
“God bless America …”
This piece was dedicated to those who lost their lives and those who gave their all to help out on this day seven years ago. May their spirit never be forgotten.
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| Anymore |
[06 Sep 2008|06:11pm] |
“Well … took you long enough.”
Jill stopped in her tracks the minute she stepped into the interrogation room. The pale man sitting in the metal chair, grinning that toothless grin with a face of about a week’s worth of stubble. The hideous comb-over was all too familiar to the agent, and she folded her arms over her chest in a defensive posture.
“Mr. Coker,” she said with venom in her tone. Of course Dylan Coker was the guy they’d been after for the past month, why hadn’t Jill seen that? She knew how this man operated, and all the evidence the FBI had on him before his capture was completely consistent with his past dealings.
Jill should’ve known; she used to be his lawyer.
( Intimidating )
“I’m fine,” Jill said with a single nod. Seeing Dylan again had thrown the agent for a loop, but she pushed through the awkwardness of interrogating one of her former clients. He’d tried to intimidate her and it didn’t work; if anything, Jill thought she intimidated him.
Even if she had to lie to do it.
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| Napoleon Dynamite of the Undead |
[04 Sep 2008|02:06pm] |
Jill couldn’t stop laughing.
It was a not-so-classic case of mistaken identity; Jill had just left her office, walking to her car with the moon hanging high in the Chicago night sky. She never heard the vampire sneak up on her, and it wasn’t until she found herself with her back against the hood of her Malibu that the agent realized one of the undead was looking to eat her.
Jill was scared, just not horribly terrified. She’d been around vampires long enough that they didn’t really shock her anymore – well, most of the time.
This one did, though. Having pinned Jill’s arms and legs so she couldn’t do any more than squirm beneath the creature, the vampire leaned in for his first bite. But the vampire stopped suddenly, its feral eyes staring just below Jill’s chin. Which was when she remembered:
Her cross. Though normally hidden beneath her shirt, Jill wore a blouse to work that exposed that part of her upper chest. The vampire stared at it, slowly loosening his grip on her arms.
“No,” it growled, dropping its feet back onto the pavement. “Slayer!”
( Checking In On )
Jill then flopped herself into the seat of her car, shoving the key in the ignition and cranking the motor. They’d been after this guy for months; Jill couldn’t wait to interrogate him. For all the dangers in the world – particularly the weird ones – Jill had a special bit of venom reserved for drug dealers.
Probably because her father wound up being one. At least this one didn’t have a badge.
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| Sorta New |
[27 Aug 2008|01:29am] |
How long had Frank Thompson been lying on the street in his own blood?
Jill didn't know, but as she hoisted his arm over her shoulder and rushed him to nearby St. Joseph's Hospital. Fortunately, it was only a block from where she found Frank, a slender man in his 50s that was barely conscious. From the wounds on the side of his neck, the agent knew he was the victim of a vampire attack. He wasn't coherent enough to tell Jill how he survived the attack or anything of the sort, but the point remained: he was still alive.
But he needed medical attention.
Bursting through the doors of the emergency room, Jill's eyes searching frantically for anyone wearing a white coat. She really didn't care who, just -- someone needed to help this man. Frank was fortunate, that Jill was already in this part of the city, doing some tedious legwork for one of her cases with the FBI. The paperwork was actually not where her source said it would be, but if Jill could save this man's life and give him the help he needed, the trip would not have been in vain.
"Need some help over here!" she called out, glad she hadn't yet removed her FBI badge from the hem of her black t-shirt. Blood stained the shoulders of her garment, and Jill felt the man's head slump against her. His eyes were closed, but he was still breathing.
( In time? )
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| Moment By Moment |
[22 Aug 2008|12:58am] |
Victoria’s last little tease hadn’t slipped past Jill unnoticed. Even as she shut the door to her bedroom – and locked it, as suggested – the agent couldn’t shake the image in her head.
Vampiress stalking into her room, climbing atop the mattress and sinking fangs into the former lawyer’s neck. Once Jill’s fantasy – one she planned to use in her ascent up the Wolfram & Hart ladder – that prospect was only mildly enjoyable. In spite of her newfound humanity, Jill couldn’t deny there were still moments, fleeting instances where she found herself indulging in her darkest impulses.
But she no longer acted on such thoughts, for which Jill was proud. She’d come a long way since Las Vegas, even she knew this. Though she would never complete her redemptive journey, the agent understood that such a thing was a day-by-day, moment-by-moment process.
All the good deeds in the world wouldn’t negate the bloodshed and the treachery, but they would help Jill carve a greater destiny for herself.
The Mary statuette stood in the center of Jill’s nightstand, with her cross necklace to the immediate left. To the right sat a Holy Bible, the red ribbon designed to hold Jill’s page much closer to the front than the back. It was a difficult book to read – not because of the message, but because of the language and intricacies of what was undoubtedly the latest of many translations.
The Book of Leviticus was particularly difficult; Jill found herself reading certain passages more than once before finally deciphering what they said.
What little Jill knew of the Christian faith wasn’t pretty; she knew of those who would use God’s message for their own personal gains – they normally found their way onto television every Sunday morning, imploring the true believers to send money they probably didn’t have in the first place. There were others still who believed the word of God was so righteous, so pure, that anyone who dared not believe in every last syllable was a heretic and condemned to rot in eternal hellfire.
Then there were those who would use God in starting their wars – her former employer had a particular interest in those heathen degenerates.
Jill, deep down, knew she didn’t want to succumb to either. For her, this was a matter of personal faith – it didn’t matter to her whether someone else believed in Jesus Christ; only her belief truly mattered. Someone of another spiritual path wasn’t wrong, because even in this early stage, Jill knew faith was less about right and wrong and more about belief.
She would have to learn some of the particulars, something Jill was confident David could assist with. For a moment, Jill considered reading a few more passages before nodding off, but the red numbers beside her bed told the story:
Quarter past five in the morning. Jill had a meeting with the Chicago director later that afternoon, and she didn’t exactly fancy an emergency Starbucks run prior. So as much as Jill wanted to continue on her spiritual path, sleep took precedence.
Jesus would understand, wouldn’t he?
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| Nothing But Sin |
[18 Aug 2008|10:12pm] |
Jill had to admit, she was a little overwhelmed as she walked through the doors of Our Lady of Victory.
Religion hadn’t really been something the agent paid much mind to; church wasn’t a weekly constant when she was a child, and naturally, her last real job didn’t allow for much time to devote to a personal savior – at least, not one that required human sacrifices and had a diet consisting of infant children.
Jill had only begun reading the Bible in the past couple months, but she was fairly certain God’s message didn’t involve eating babies.
Though Jill felt religion was something she needed to at least explore – probably a normal part of one’s fight for personal redemption – she hadn’t walked through the doors of a house of worship until now. Part of it was fear, as part of the agent was worried that no matter how much she embraced the Lord, no matter how often she begged for forgiveness, the things she’d done would be just too heinous.
Not to mention, Jill wasn’t sure Christianity spoke to her. She was willing to explore the possibility, but there was nothing to guarantee Jill would become a God-fearing Christian.
Then again, she wasn’t exactly in a position to say no without a second thought. If she really wanted to become a better person, Jill knew she’d have to explore literally every facet of herself, learn who she was so she could live better. One of the first steps was walking into Our Lady of Victory and seeing where things went from there.
( Light a Candle )
Wiping away one more tear, Jill walked through the doors of Our Lady of Victory once more. At the very least, this path was an opportunity, and even if Jill found down the road that this wasn’t for her.
The important thing was that she was putting forth the effort, realizing where her life was and where she wanted it to be. And what kind of person would Jill be if she didn’t examine every possible angle?
There was no book or road map for redemption. Everyone had to get there in their own way.
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| Sick and Depraved |
[07 Aug 2008|10:37pm] |
Elise had to stop and wash her hands on her way out of the Circuit Court of Cook County. Housed in the iconic Daley Center, the court should have been at least a bit on the posh side. Elise had been disgusted to find small, cramped court rooms and dirty interview rooms; her client, a low-level mafia shill, was involved in a fairly simple land dispute with a neighbor. Petty and useless on the surface, the case was exactly what Elise had been looking for and allowed her to gain background and a firsthand look at Chicago’s property laws.
Still, the less than grand setting had left her feeling rather repulsed. Washing her hands was only a start; she didn’t think she’d feel quite right until she got back to her office. She had just stepped out into the afternoon sun when her gaze lit upon a familiar face heading into the building.
Though Jill would likely never have to testify in a room at the Circuit Court, by virtue of being an FBI agent rather than a local law enforcement official, she knew she would have access to court records. And considering the coke dealer reportedly had a sizeable rap sheet in the Windy City, she figured this was a good place to start.
Especially since the dealer never showed at the Hawthorne Racecourse. On the bright side, though, the horse Jill bet on won, which meant she made a pretty nice bit of coin.
But the agent stopped in her tracks when she saw a pale woman walking out of the building, instantly recognizing her from one of the times Jill wound up in the hospital in Las Vegas. One of her co-workers at Wolfram & Hart … this was shaping up to be downright splendid.
( Golden Child? )
The agent watched as Elise walked into the building, shaking her head. Jill supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised she ran into someone from the firm; in her line of work, the agent figured she’d probably wind up dealing with Wolfram & Hart on more than one occasion.
In fact, the FBI was counting on it, hoping to use Jill’s experience there to its advantage. Sadly, Jill was probably the only one at the FBI who understood just how deep the firm’s resources and connections went.
There was no running from Wolfram & Hart. Jill understood that better than anyone.
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| Brink of Destruction |
[05 Aug 2008|10:10pm] |
Of all the places for a mystical dug dealer to be making a deal … a horse track? On race day, no less?
Jill had to admit she still had a lot to learn when it came to investigating unlawful activities. But last she checked, drug deals were often best done in private, with no witnesses. Which made the fact that a deal was supposedly going down at the Hawthorne Racecourse more than a little peculiar.
Dressed in a blight-blue blouse and a pair of blue jeans, Jill figured showing up in unofficial clothing would probably be best. Strutting about in a business suit and a badge with “FBI” in bold black letters would likely scare off the dealer and his customer, which would set the investigation back.
Also helping the undercover cause, Jill sipped from an expensive drink she couldn’t begin to pronounce, staring at the odds for the next race. DaddysLittleAngel was the heavy favorite at 2-1, but Jill found Redeemed intriguing at 5-2.
Though not a better, Jill wanted to blend in as well as she could. So she pulled out her pocketbook, sliding a bill under the glass for the attendant.
“Five bucks on Redeemed, please.”
( Not Angry )
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| Surprisingly Resilient |
[30 Jul 2008|03:07pm] |
Jessica hadn’t said a word the entire trip downtown, for which Jill was actually glad. A lot of their conversations in recent days were awkward, Jessica unable to figure out how to deal now that her parents were dead, and Jill unable to figure out what the right thing to say or do to help make her feel better was.
Then again, there probably wasn’t anything Jill could do aside from investigate the vampires who killed Jessica’s family and make sure she didn’t get lost in the system.
Hopefully, this Last Refuge Foundation would help with that.
Jill led Jessica, still silent and slumped over herself with a backpack full of her stuff hanging off her shoulder, through the front doors of the office, ringing the bell once they reached the front desk. Making sure her posture was anything but threatening as she produced her FBI badge, Jill waited patiently for assistance.
If everything she’d read about this place was true, Jill felt comfortable handing over Jessica.
( If I had my way )
"People like me," Rebecca said thoughtfully, looking at the closed door of her office. "My dear, you have no idea.
Interesting girl, though. Perhaps they could be useful to one another. Networking had never not paid off, in her experience.
Now for the Barnes girl. They find her a bed, then deal with the rest of it later. Her work was the only thing that kept her focused these days.
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| Struck Two |
[26 Jul 2008|11:05pm] |
The paperwork was exasperating. Jill could’ve sworn cases involving supernatural entities had more paperwork than others. The federal government required a certain set of forms be filled out in the event of a vampire massacre, while an entirely different set of paperwork came with werewolf attacks.
But even those had nothing on ritualistic slayings, which encompassed four levels of paperwork on top of a series of three face-to-face meetings with supervisors and ritual experts.
As it turned out, actual investigating was the easy part of Jill’s work.
A pack of vampires attacked and killed a couple in Wicker Park the night before, and though neither the FBI neither the local police had any leads or suspects, there was a child left behind. Jessica Barnes was the 14-year-old daughter of Diane and Joshua, orphaned after the attack.
Logistics would have to be determined later, but for the time being, Jill agreed to let Jessica stay in her apartment. The teenager was asleep as the clock struck two in the morning, though Jill was still sitting at her desk, staring at the blank forms, unsure of where to begin.
The agent tapped her pen against the surface of the desk in frustration, but she stopped after a few seconds. The tapping seemed louder than usual in the dead silence of her home office, and Jill didn’t want to wake Jessica. She’d had a long, emotional day, and she deserved her rest.
Ultimately, the vampires weren’t what worried Jill. Nor did the possibility of the bodies rising as undead themselves; local police had the authority to cremate all victims of vampire attacks, a proactive measure designed to curtail the creation of more vampires.
No, Jessica worried Jill. She hardly knew the teenager, but Jill got the impression she had some issues, even before her parents were murdered. There was no telling what would become of Jessica; whether there was other family to take her in or if she’d wind up in foster care – whatever the case, Jill felt for her.
With a sigh, Jill rubbed the bridge of her nose and stifled a yawn. She hadn’t slept much the past week, chasing down leads and trying to squeeze as much information as possible out of her informants. If there was one thing she missed about Wolfram & Hart, it was the staff psychics, who could tell immediately what someone knew and if they were lying.
To the best of her knowledge, the FBI didn’t have those.
Running on two hours’ sleep and four Red Bulls, Jill yawned again – only this one snuck up on the agent before she could hold it back. Another glance at the clock and Jill picked up that day’s copy of the Chicago Tribune noticing an article under the fold about a foundation set up to help unfortunate youngsters. Jill sat up a little straighter, reading the article and jotting down the place’s name and address.
“The Last Refuge,” she said to herself, making note to follow up on it in the coming days. She wouldn’t take Jessica just yet – the teenager was still an emotional mess – but Jill would take care of it soon enough.
Turning off the lamp on her desk, Jill stood and stretched with another yawn. She stopped fighting it, choosing instead to open the door to her office and check in on the sleeping Jessica. She looked so innocent asleep on the couch, the blanket Jill received from her grandmother tucked neatly under her chin.
Jill’s heart broke for the girl, and the agent grew more determined to not only bring the monsters who killed her parents to justice, but also to help Jessica pick up the pieces and keep living her life.
The last thing Jill wanted was to watch someone so young have their life ruined. She’d already seen enough of that in her lifetime.
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| Training |
[01 Jul 2008|04:29pm] |
Jill couldn’t believe the knot in her gut as her plane landed at Reagan International.
She was in her second start from scratch in the last few months, after her transition from Wolfram & Hart to Project Integration went, quite literally, nowhere. But Uncle Sam for some reason decided Jill was better served in the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and was relocating her in lieu of actual termination.
Which, considering her former employer, was a welcome relief.
The luggage rack took forever, as it always did. It seemed as if travel was more of a hassle than ever, even when someone else was footing the bill. Why the FBI saw fit to hire Jill was beyond the former layer’s comprehension, but she wasn’t exactly chomping at the bit to find out why.
She was getting another shot, and all that mattered to her now was making sure she didn’t fuck it up.
( The Moment You Said Yes )
[NPC Agenta Rivers and Creswell were written by Paul.]
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| The Call |
[23 Jun 2008|11:03am] |
They were going to fire Jill, she just knew it.
Everything was spiraling out of control; the media reports were gaining steam and credibility over the past couple weeks – so much so an investigative reporter wrote in the local newspaper that such reports were true and hardly anyone batted an eyelash over it.
But Jill figured the final straw snapped the camel’s spine in two when Josiah Markowitz – the very man who recruited her for Project Integration – told all to a television station. Something told the former attorney he didn’t live to make it out of Las Vegas; if the government was anything like Wolfram & Hart, such loose lips weren’t looked kindly upon.
And considering the government didn’t really want anyone else grabbing their 15 minutes on Oprah, at the very least everyone would lose their jobs. And that was the best-case scenario.
So when Jill’s phone rang, she figured this was it. Her first shot at starting over failed; her only option now would be to pack up her things, head back east and try to find her way again somewhere else. Jill was actually resigned to that fact, even going so far as to decide to return to Baltimore.
( That's on you )
Jill glanced out her window again, focusing once more on the activity in the sky. It almost looked as if something were trying to push its way into the world, and for a moment, Jill feared it just might do so. Things were really going downhill in Clark County, and as she stared, Jill knew the sooner she left, the better.
Jill had a week to get to Washington, but she would leave within the next day if she could. There was just one thing she had to do first.
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| Cell 14 |
[13 May 2008|02:50pm] |
Henderson wasn’t quite Las Vegas, but it wasn’t Searchlight, either.
Surprisingly, this was Jill’s first visit to the facility in Henderson. Almost a month doing the whole government thing, one would’ve thought she would’ve been here sooner, but as she escorted a vampire through the front gate, the former attorney was impressed with the scale of things.
She was also impressed with the arsenal at her disposal. Without that weapon – it was like a stun gun on steroids – Jill would’ve never been able to apprehend the resistant monster to bring him to the Intake and Interrogation wing.
Flashing her badge to the guard, Jill pushed the vamp through the gate as it swung open, her eyes searching for an open cell. Space was becoming a premium in the facility; if Jill could guess as she saw all the creeps holed up in the cells, Project Integration had been going on for a while – and not everyone was happy about it.
“This is what you get for not playing nice,” Jill told the vampire, pushing him face-first into a wall of bars. “We offered you government pay, job security, kickass weapons … and yet you chose dark cell.
“Hope your cell doesn’t have a good view of the sunrise.”
( One hair )
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| Without Conscience |
[13 Mar 2008|12:17pm] |
“Well, tell your client that if this keeps up, a lawsuit will be the least of his concerns. … What does that mean? We’ll rip out his tongue and shove it up his ass, what the hell do you think it means?”
Jill slammed the phone back on its receiver with a sigh. She hated dealing with attorneys and clients from other law firms. The “normal” ones had no idea how things were run, and were even more brain dead to the fact that Wolfram & Hart didn’t need a lawsuit in order to get whatever it wanted.
Besides, dismemberment had its advantages.
The lawyer considered marching her ass up to the White Room again, give the Conduit a good what-for with regards to their last demand. Sure, being the director of the firm’s Special Projects division was just what Jill needed to begin her ascent in the ranks and bring about her endgame, but she didn’t appreciate the firm’s insistence she kill Victoria and Oliver to do it.
Even with all the baggage surrounding them, Jill didn’t actually feel right killing them. Stupid emotions – she’d see about having them removed by the firm’s medical department at some point.
( Second chance )
Jill walked through this firm’s doors on her own, and she was about to walk right back out.
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| Know Not What I Seek |
[20 Feb 2008|12:21am] |
“You’ve got to be kidding me …”
Under Amendment 25 USC 4012 of the Uniting and Strengthening America by Providing Appropriate Tools Required to Intercept and Obstruct Terrorism Act of 2001 (the “USA PATRIOT Act”), the Department of Homeland Security hereby summons you to appear for an informal interview on February 25, 2012, regarding the presence of Nonresident Aliens in the Clark County area.
Jill was flummoxed, to say the least. It wasn’t every day an attorney for Wolfram & Hart came home to a FedEx’d letter from Homeland Security. Granted, she did work for Evil Incorporated, but to the best of Jill’s knowledge, she wasn’t engaged in any terrorist activity.
Now, Jim in Accounting, on the other hand …
( Scared little daddy's girl )
Jill rest the bone on top of the folded letter, staring at the flame as it burned and melted more of the candle wax. She sat in silence for several moments, smiling to herself at the thought of how many times she had to recite that incantation. She’d kept a lot from the Senior Partners over the years, and this would be but one more deception on her part … and if all went well, perhaps she’d be free of their shackles once and for all.
She doubted it, but anything was possible, right?
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