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15 August 2011 @ 10:16 pm
Numb3rs Fic: Penance - Prologue and Part 1  
Written for numb3rs_novella 2011
Crossposted to numb3rs_notice and numb3rs_fic



Title: Penance - Prologue and Part 1
Series/Universe: Penance/Sin/Vice
Pairing/Characters: See Series Post
Rating: NC17
Spoilers: Seasons 1, 2 and 3
Summary: Just when it looks like love, success and safety are possible in the world of crime Megan's adversaries rise up anew against her (AU)
Notes/Warnings: Read the disclaimer on my LJ



Tuesday, 12/4/07 - Day

Megan stretched languidly beneath her silk sheets, the rosy hues of dawn warming the ivory colors of her bedding.

"I don't want to get out of bed."

A warm hand, splayed low across her stomach, pulled her back towards the center of the bed.

"Then don't."

Megan rolled over and curled up against James' chest, sighing contentedly.

"Okay."

"See how easy that was?" She felt James press a kiss to her hair and she relaxed, letting the scent of his bare skin - still tinged with sweat and sex from the night before - comfort her into closing her eyes again. "It's nice to be the boss isn't it?"

"Being the boss doesn't mean I can take off any day I want," she chided.

"It does for my company," James countered. "There's nothing life threatening about logistics. They can do without me for a day. And Luxe International?" He reached down to her chin, tipping it up so she could meet his eyes. "They'll survive without you for a day as well."

He pressed a tender kiss to her lips, one that she sank into - opening herself to him as warmth grew between them, desire surging.

Sheets got pushed down and away, friction charging the air between them, breaths no more than little gasps between ardent kisses...

The harsh bleating of her alarm clock shocked her awake and Megan bolted up in bed, blinking as the dream faded into the reality of a cold and empty bed and a seven A.M. breakfast meeting she couldn't be late to because she was the one who called it.

Sighing, she swung her legs out of bed and glanced back at the rumpled sheets.

She always made her bed when she got up, but today, she let the sheets - and the fantasy they evoked - remain as is.

+


Tuesday, 12/4/07 - Day

Megan had just barely combed out her damp hair from her post-workout shower when the doorbell rang. Checking the security monitor from her bedroom, she saw both the delivery person from The Loft with breakfast and Matt waiting, his appearance impeccable as usual, as if it wasn't 6:55AM. She buzzed them in and threw on some loungewear - a nice hoodie and sweatpant set - so she wouldn't have to worry about getting toast crumbs on her designer suit.

"Morning, Matt." She greeted her assistant with a cheerful smile first. "Morning, Boyd." She gestured to the deliveryman to set up on her living room coffee table. She had enough board room meeting meals. She liked to have as many casual seating ones as she could manage. "Please tell me you're ready to caffeinate me."

"I am," he told her, pulling an insulated beverage carrier out of his thermal bag and two tall travel mugs which he proceeded to fill with coffee. "Non-fat milk and three Splendas for you..." He adjusted her coffee, stirred it and put the lid on before handing it to her. "And for you, Matt?"

"Black's fine," he answered, accepting the second cup. "Thanks." He opened up his folder as Boyd set about putting the breakfast spread in front of them. "So, as agreed upon previously, Sandra handled the daily analysis report on Tuttle's trial yesterday so Howard could spend a four day weekend with his wife for their anniversary. Sandra also wanted to cover today with Howard to make sure they were following the trial seamlessly."

"Well, they're both able to watch the live and recorded footage from Colby's in court surveillance." Megan took a bite of her artisan bread toast as Boyd uncovered her wild mushroom and gruyère omelet and fresh tropical fruit bowl. "So it's not like Howard can't catch up if he feels the need."

"Actually since the trial's likely to come to an end before winter recess Sandra's thinking they might both cover the trial every day - just to be certain. They're still confident the trial will result in a conviction. Taking the death penalty off the table to get the men who ran your limo off the road to turn on Tuttle was the linchpin. Our mole's documentation was great, but there's nothing like a living breathing witness on the stand." He paused for a second. "Speaking of, we did make her - that lawyer we bribed to go work for Tuttle - disappear, right?"

"I didn't let the word get out, but yes," Megan told him. "Don got her a job on the island of all places! She's a legal attache for the government there. He says she loves it so far. She's got a great tan and a new boyfriend already."

Matt chuckled. "Sounds like she's got her priorities straight."

As he finished laying out the spread, Boyd straightened up, addressing Megan.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Megan's cell phone rang as she shook her head. "No. Thanks, Boyd." As he departed, she answered her phone on speakerphone as she reached for more toast. "Reeves."

"It's a go. The paperwork's been delivered to the hospital."

As Matt looked at her quizzically, she responded briskly.

"Thanks." She hung up and answered his unasked question. "Lieutenant Gary Walker."

"About Ivy Kirk," Matt guessed correctly. "She hasn't woken up from her coma, has she?"

"No, but if Tuttle's writing her off I'm betting that's a mistake. Darby would fight her way back and I don't think Ivy's any different. And if she does recover?"

"She'll still hate us and Darby," Matt pointed out.

"Yes," Megan agreed, gesturing with her toast. "But she'll hate Tuttle more for abandoning her."

+

David was used to waking with a start: either by his alarm clock or his cellphone, which was worse since it often meant an emergency. Either one supplied him with sufficient adrenaline to make it through his morning routine in a matter of fifteen speedy minutes.

Only today he woke up slowly, to the sensation of skin sliding across his own.

His eyes opened to slits and watched Claudia - wrapped around him loosely under the sheets - reposition herself so their legs were entwined and her head was on his chest.

It was then that it hit him there would be no alarm clock: they were at her place, not his.

David rarely allowed himself the luxury of sleeping over at Claudia's, always worried about Olivia finding out and being jealous. It had been a long slow process extracting himself from Olivia's possession - and that's just what it felt like. She'd claimed him so long ago she took it for granted she'd get to keep him. Yet David had been taking Megan's advice over the last several months and growing excessively clinging and smothering, talking about marriage enough that they'd finally had a few spats over the topic.

It felt strange talking to Olivia about marriage when it was the woman currently sharing his bed who he wanted to share his life with. But with two major barriers in his way - Olivia, who was being dealt with and the fact that Claudia was completely unaware of his criminal activities and the real nature of his employment - he was having to learn to be extra patient.

Thus David never being able to invite Claudia to spend the night in the company's apartment building with him. There was little danger of her overhearing anything there, but still David felt nervous regardless and felt it was safer to keep Claudia away from any of their facilities save The Loft where she loved to go eat.

Claudia shifted again and her eyelashes fluttered.

"Wake up, baby," David whispered. "I've been waiting to kiss you good morning."

Claudia smiled even before her eyes opened, but once they did she leaned in and she and David shared a tender and relaxed kiss.

"Mmm..." she murmured. "Feels like you just kissed me good night." She glanced at her bedside clock. "I don't have to go in for a couple of hours."

David let out a reluctant sigh. "But I do. Tuesdays are staff meeting days so even though we get Mondays off we're all hopping to get caught up with our reports by meeting time so..."

"You have to go," she finished for him.

"Not just yet," he amended, pulling her close and tightening his arms around her. "I always have time for one more kiss." This kiss was deeper, slower and David poured all his emotion in it, making sure it said more than he could with words. Once he finished, he pulled away reluctantly. "And now I really have to go."

"You're welcome to take a shower here," she told him.

"It's easier just to go home," he replied. "Besides," he teased, putting on his clothes from the night before. "I earned these rumpled clothes."

Claudia laughed, the rich sound resonating in the quiet room.

A rush of affection flooded David and he had to pause and gaze at her, so beautiful even with sleep-mussed hair and no makeup.

"By the way," she said slyly. "I read an article in one of my magazines that said that two of the most stressful moments in a man's life are when he asks a woman out on a first date and when he proposes."

David cocked his head as he pondered the idea.

"I can see that."

"Well..." She slid closer, her fingers merging with his as she reached for his hand. "I just want you to know you don't have to be nervous around me."

All the adrenaline missing from the morning wake up appeared all at once, making David's heart all but leap out of his ribcage.

He hadn't asked, but she'd all but told him she'd accept.

"Good to know," he said, unable to keep his ear to ear smile off his face. "Good to know."

+

Everett shuffled into the county jail conference room where his lawyer Dennis was already seated, his briefcase still closed in front of him: always a bad sign.

"What's so urgent it couldn't wait until I saw you at the courthouse later?" Everett grumbled. "You know I had to miss breakfast for this." He threw himself into the other chair, scowling, "Crap as it is, a man's got to eat."

Dennis waited to make sure the guard had locked the door behind him then produced a thermos of coffee and a thick sandwich kept warm with an insulated silver pouch.

"From your chef."

Everett opened the pouch to find a hot black forest ham and Gruyere cheese sandwich, one of his favorites. He attacked it with gusto, not caring what Dennis might think.

Dennis merely poured the coffee for him and shut his briefcase, pushing it aside.

"The trial's getting farther along than we wanted. We need to talk about options."

"What about our plans in play?" Everett asked.

"None of our associates have been able to locate the targets; they're too well protected."

"None? What the hell am I paying them for?" He went to wipe his hands on something, but had nothing so Dennis handed him his clean handkerchief. "First the jury guy goes nowhere, that so called crack expert witness you brought in barely made a dent..."

"I think she did a good job creating doubt in the minds of the jury that the documentation in evidence could have been forged," Dennis countered. "Though I agree the jury expert seems to have been useless."

"So, in your opinion," Everett asked, "what do we need?"

"I'm of the opinion - and your second in command agrees by the way - that we need an insider in order to obtain the location or locations of our former friends."

Everett shook his head in disgust and anger, his voice a low rumble. "I can't believe those idiots took JET SUVs..."

"Shh!" Dennis warned. "You never know when they could be listening." He looked around, straightening up his posture. "Anyway, since we don't currently have anyone with access to said information, we - that is..." he lowered his voice for the span of one word, "Marshall... and I agree that we should put your plan into play, to leverage an existing asset."

"The asset who is not ours," Everett said, nodding in understanding.

"Exactly. It was your idea, you just never got a chance to act on it. Well, we're ready and we think it has a reasonable chance of success."

"But we'll still keep trying other avenues, right?" Everett confirmed. "I can't be putting all my eggs in one basket when it comes to spending the rest of my life in prison. There's no way I'm staying in here. I don't care how much it costs or who we have to bri..."

A curt gesture from Dennis cut him off, making Everett's eyes narrow.

"I'm sorry, but as your attorney I can't let you risk yourself by saying certain possibly incriminating things aloud."

"I know, I'm just sick of all this..." Everett pushed the now empty sandwich container away and stood up, pacing the small room. "If you'd gotten me out on bail I'd have just bolted, but since I'm stuck here you better damn well get me out for good."

"I'm doing everything I can," Dennis swore. "But if you let us do this other thing? It's got a good shot at success."

"Fine," Everett agreed. "Pull the trigger. In for a penny, in for a pound, so what's a cop's life on top of all this?"

"The death penalty?" Dennis replied, grim.

Everett leaned over the table, staring Dennis down.

"Then make sure it's not my death."

+

It felt strange to be flanked by uniformed police officers when she wasn't being led to jail, but Darby tried to ignore the uncomfortable sense that the hairs on the back of her neck were stuck in alert mode and strode through the hospital up to the main desk.

"Can I help you, Ma'am?" the closest of three receptionists at the desk asked.

Darby almost huffed at being called 'Ma'am', but produced a manilla envelope, handing it over.

"This is a court order requiring that patient Ivy Kirk be moved into protective custody."

The woman typed on her computer then paled.

"But she's in a coma."

"She's also a material witness in a murder trial," Darby stated firmly, without missing a beat. "The paperwork's all signed, the officers here are ready to escort the transport ambulance... All we need is her doctor's sign off to leave and a bus to take her with."

"I... I can't authorize this by myself," the woman said, flustered. "Come with me."

The woman led them up the elevator to what looked like the administrative offices, stopping in front of one as she rapped on the door.

"Come in."

"Dr. Sturdevant?" the woman began meekly. "The police are here. They want to take one of our comatose patients into custody!"

"Protective custody," Darby clarified. "A secure hospital capable of caring for her in her current state and protecting her from attempts on her life."

"Kirk, correct?" The doctor held out his hand for the paperwork and perused it briefly before signing the bottom. "You do realize her prognosis is grim. None of the doctors who examined her expects her to regain consciousness."

"I... We have faith she will," Darby told him. "She's a fighter and I don't think she's going to quit this early in the round.

The doctor nodded. "Arrange for an ambulance to transport Ms. Kirk as directed." He handed the paperwork back to the receptionist then addressed Darby. "We're thankfully fairly slow today so we should be able to get you going within the hour."

"Thank you. We'll wait in her room, if that's acceptable."

"Certainly." With a nod, the doctor went back to his work and the receptionist led them back to the elevator to yet another floor in a deathly silent ward. She tittered nervously. "The long term ward always seems too quiet to me, you know?" She put out her hand at room 1213 as if to usher them inside yet without opening the door.

"Thanks for your help." At Darby's release the woman all but fled back to the elevator. Darby turned and nodded to Cyrus, one of Andrew's security men from Colorado that Megan had hired to supplement David's Security crew. He'd apparently drawn the final Ivy duty before Gary was able to arrange her move.

"We'll wait out here," one of the officers said.

"Fine." Darby took a deep breath and opened the door, walking into the room where the only noises were the life-sustaining machines. She stood looking at the tiny woman in the bed, marveling at how much larger she had seemed in life. "Hello, Ivy. Long time no try to kill."

+

Tuesday, 12/4/07 - Night

"Staff meeting must have gone well if you didn't have to bring in dinner for everyone."

Megan looked up to find Stephan, her regular waiter at The Loft, smirking as he poured her mineral water.

"Very funny," she tossed back with a smile. "They don't always run that long. Besides..." She gestured to the array of folders laid out on the table in front of her. "If it went that well how did I end up with all this paperwork?"

"Touche'. Now I know you've been on a broiled fish kick for a while..."

"Stephan, please don't talk me into the tiramisu again!" Megan interrupted. "I ended up doing an extra twenty minutes on the stairmaster the next day out of guilt!"

Stephan held up his hands in defense. "I was only going to say Marco's testing out a new caviar via an amuse-bouche that's just lovely: smoked salmon, crème fraiche, a pinch of tarragon and lemon chives, topped with white sturgeon roe."

"I'll think about it," she offered, tempted. She opened her mouth to place her order and left it agape in shock as she saw James Grace saunter into the restaurant and up to the nearby hostess desk. "James!" She waved to get his attention and his face lit up at the sight of her, making the flip flopping inside her belly turn into frantic butterflies.

"Megan!" As he approached Stephan deftly withdrew, allowing James to greet her with a society perfect air kiss on the cheek and partial hug. "I'd say it's a surprise to see you here, but you do own the place!"

"Which gives me the best seat in the house," she gestured to her expansive booth with a great view of the city and sightlines to the entrance as well. "So can I lure you into joining me? Or do you have plans?"

"My only plan was for a good meal now that I'm back on U.S. soil." When she gestured him to a seat in the booth he took it with an appreciative nod.

"So you're back from Dubai then?" They had email exchanges over the last few months as James moved his company's headquarters to Los Angeles, mostly about the Youth Arts charity project Megan was spearheading, but they'd managed to get on friendly terms even if Megan kept wishing they were more than friendly.

"Yes! All done!" James said proudly. "I'm keeping a satellite office there, of course, but it's nice to be able to drive home from work and be barraged with billboards for brainless sitcoms instead of signs in Arabic I'm too slow at translating to read on the way."

Megan allowed herself a laugh, trying not to let her nerves keep her from being herself.

"Ah, but if we had signs in Arabic here you'd have more than enough time to translate them - given LA traffic jams."

"Which is why I'm putting in a helipad. Nothing like thumbing your nose at the commuting masses by flying right over their heads."

"A helipad's nice," Megan agreed. "Not as useful without a helicopter though."

"Details, details," James scoffed. "So how about you? What have I missed since I saw you last... That was at Basia's near the end of October, wasn't it? Right before I headed back to Dubai to get the move going?"

"Wow, has it been that long?" Megan took a deep breath. "Let's see... I opened a new hotel called Aurora that has a restaurant called Ice and a club called Polaris, I hired an architect for the new Youth Arts Center you so graciously donated to before you left..." She bowed her head in acknowledgment and he did the same in response. "And I suppose the biggest thing you missed is someone tried to have me killed and they're current on trial for conspiracy to commit murder."

James just stared at her a moment, stunned.

"Okay, I'm really good at telling when someone's kidding and you're not kidding. Clearly you need to tell me the entire story from the top."

"Fair enough." Megan waved Stephan back over. "But we should order first. It's going to be a long story."

"Good evening, Major Grace," Stephan began courteously. "May I start you off with your regular mineral water, a dirty martini or your favorite single malt scotch?"

"You'd better bring the scotch," James told him. "I have a feeling I'm going to need it."

"And two of Marco's amuse-bouches," Megan added with a wink. "I wouldn't want my story to make the good Major here lose his appetite after all."

+

Red roses weren't Olivia's favorites and while David knew this, he brought them to the Platinum Rail anyway.

Megan's plan for him to get Olivia to break up with him had been a wise one, but after the riot caused by Everett's organization Olivia had been cool to everyone from Luxe, even David. It took him a while to get her to warm back up to them and then to work on wooing her in overdrive so she'd revolt against his clinginess and matrimonial obsession.

Olivia wasn't in the main room at the bar so David nodded to the bartender on duty and headed into the secret back room where the gambling took place.

"Hey, baby!"

He spotted her across the room talking with Derek. David tried not to look encouraged; Megan had specifically posted Derek at the Rail to give Olivia another man to seduce once she decided David was too high maintenance. Every time he saw them chatting, heads down and laughing, he knew Derek was getting closer.

He interrupted, kissing Olivia on the cheek and giving her the roses as Derek took a few steps back to give them some privacy.

"They're lovely," Olivia intoned automatically, her tone rather flat as she held them a bit at arm's length as if she was already trying to find a way to offload them. "What are they for?"

"An apology," David told her. "I promised you once my Tuesday nights were free again I'd come whisk you away from work for a night on the town. Only I forgot with Suzanne out sick last week we had to have the final session tonight instead." He picked up Olivia's hand and held it to his chest. "I'm really sorry. Can you forgive me?"

Olivia shrugged, retrieving her hand. "Nothing to forgive. It's not like Tuesday's not a work night for me as well."

David smiled widely. "That's what I love about you. Nothing phases you. Olivia - strong as a diamond and as beautiful too." He kissed her, taking his time, until he felt her pull away. He wasn't sure if it was embarrassment or reluctance, but either way it wasn't a bad sign when it came to the hopes that she'd end things soon.

"So..." Olivia managed a smile for him. "I forgive you. You're off the hook for Tuesdays, now and for whenever. We're good." She flagged down a passing employee and all but shoved the flowers into her hands. "Go put those in water for me, thanks." The woman blinked in surprise, but nodded and took them away.

"Thank you." David took her hand again, gazing at her intently. "I was thinking... Maybe this weekend we might go look at rings... Just to get some ideas," he hastened to add.

This time the smile was clearly forced.

"I'll have to see if this weekend's good." She glanced at the clock. "Aren't you due for your class in like fifteen minutes?"

"I am, but you're worth being late for." He kissed her again. "Love you, baby."

"Thanks for the flowers," she replied, a bit lamely.

As David made he way out of the room he paused just outside the door long enough to hear Olivia's and Derek's voices laughing and chatting again.

David's smile walking out to his car was completely genuine.

+

"I just want to say..." David walked down the line in front of his latest crop of students. "You've all done a great job. I'm proud of you." While he normally taught Security staff on the gun range, Megan had made it clear she wanted the entire management staff able to handle a weapon in a clinch. The others had learned years ago, even Marco whose chef's hands gave him surprisingly spot on aim, but Kit, Gabriel and Liz were new. Suzanne hadn't felt the need when she was just a bean counter, but being promoted to CFO put her in the limelight enough that she caved and agreed to the training as well.

"So, does that mean we get one more crack at the cool guns?" Kit asked.

"Maybe," David teased. "But I want to see you do one final test with your own guns. Cool as the big guns are, you're not going to have a machine pistol or sniper rifle handy if you get attacked. You'll have your gun and possibly any other semi-automatic handgun you can grab off of anyone nearby who's down." His voice was somber. "I know I've tried to make these lessons fun, but out there? It can be life or death, so if you don't feel ready? Tell me and I'll arrange for more private lessons until you do feel ready. Megan wants everyone to feel like they can defend themselves. Me? As head of security, and your friend, I hope you never have to use these things."

"Agreed," Suzanne piped up. "Still, I believe in useful knowledge and this is useful even if it goes unused. It's confidence building to know I can handle it."

"Definitely," Liz agreed. "I'd have been going 'Safety? What's a safety?' if it wasn't for this training."

"A safety's a way of scoring in football..." Kit started to explain before trailing off into a snicker, clearly joking.

"Ha ha," David intoned. "Okay, everyone. In position. We're doing distance shots first then moving up to close ups. Set your paper target to fifty feet to start."

The four of them dispersed, each to their own range cubicle, putting on their safety goggles and hearing protection before loading a paper target, setting the range and sending it out with the slam of their palm on the big button.

David put his own hearing protection on just before the first shot was fired.

Gabriel, who'd been reticent to even pick up a gun given his past, ended up becoming his most impressive student.

Liz was a fast learner; she'd made the very first bulls-eye.

Suzanne was slow and steady. She'd probably never be a great shot, but she had a good memory for guns and had gone out of her way to learn where the safety was on dozens of models of handguns.

It was Kit who'd been the biggest surprise. The easy going kid had turned out to be incredibly diligent in his studies, focused and alert, always making a point to learn all that David had to offer on each subject.

While he'd been a awful shot to begin with, he certainly won David's most improved award. He'd gone from shooting wildly to consistently matching Gabriel for high marks and occasionally beating him on the more esoteric guns like the sniper rifle. David had to wonder if he'd been sneaking out to learn on his own given his history with Ian Edgerton, the sniper and former police officer who'd tortured him when he was still a new employee.

Regardless, he could happily report back to Megan that all of them passed with flying colors.

He just hoped they'd never have the occasion to call upon their newly learned skills.

+

"Oh, this was a good choice." James's face had a blissful expression as he indulged in another spoonful of his mostly decimated plate of tiramisu. "The perfect end to a perfect meal."

Megan nodded in acknowledgment of the compliment. "I'd pass on your compliments to the chef, but I'm pretty sure Marco's already got a big head."

James laughed as he finished off the last of his dessert. "He can have an ego the size of Italy if this is the result! Hell, I've had tiramisu in Italy and this is every bit as good. Remarkable..."

"Hey, if you want authentic Italian cuisine, hire an authentic Italian," Megan joshed. "I still think, even after all these years in LA, that it takes Marco effort to remember to speak in English instead of his native Italian." She leaned in, pushing her own dessert plate aside. "So... Are you really settled now - at least for a while that is? No more long trips?"

"God, I hope not," James said, nodding to Stephan who'd appeared to silently refill their coffee cups and retreat. "I've spent half my life globe-trotting. I'm more than ready to put some roots into the ground."

Megan turned her gaze downward, stirring cream and sweetener into her coffee. "I remember seeing you with a woman at Basia's..."

"Tania?" James chuckled. "She's just one of the translators I have under contract - the best actually. She speaks six Middle Eastern languages and quite a few dialects that have been indispensable for me in writing up contracts."

"Wow, impressive..."

"So, no to your unspoken question," James replied, leaning in as well. "I'm not seeing Tania, or anyone at the moment." He sat back up, fingers playing with his coffee cup. "Though a dear friend of mine suggested I ask out a certain CEO who needs a break from work."

"Oh, really?" Megan fought to keep the fluttering of her nerves under control. "Speaking from personal experience as a CEO, I can tell you breaks are always good."

"Excellent." Their eyes met and Megan couldn't stop the girlish grin from spreading across her face. "Saturday night, the 15th... I've been invited to Esa-Pekka Salonen's black tie winter gala and I can't think of anything better than getting to dance with you to some of the best music in the world."

"How did you get an invite? The music director of the LA Phil doesn't just invite anyone!"

"I'm a big donor to the Phil, but we also have mutual friends." James shrugged. "Since he's stepping down soon this may be his last big holiday shebang."

"I'd love to go!" Megan exclaimed.

"Fantastic," James enthused. "It's a date."

Megan bit her lip, trying to keep herself from bursting with excitement. Cocking her head to the side, she managed a final quip.

"I do solemnly swear that this time?" She grinned wickedly. "I'll wear a dress that will stay on even during the most energetic tango."

+

Parts 2, 3 and 4




Trailer Vid
 
 
 
Emma DeMarais: BlueEyeemmademarais on August 16th, 2011 05:18 am (UTC)
Confession
Please see the Penance Series Post for information on and Confession for this Series.

Information on Sin and the Viceworld universe, of which Sin is a spin off occurring following the events of Vice and Virtue, can be found in the Vice Series Post, the Virtue Series Posts 1 and 2 and the Sin Series Post.

Thanks,

Emma DeMarais
t_vo0810t_vo0810 on August 16th, 2011 05:20 am (UTC)
eeeee! it's posted! congrats! :D
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on August 16th, 2011 08:15 am (UTC)
Thanks, sweets! On to yours next! /hugs you tight/
munchkinofdoom: numb3rs_novella iconmunchkinofdoom on August 16th, 2011 05:23 am (UTC)
Yay!! Congratulations!
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on August 16th, 2011 08:16 am (UTC)
Thank you! And now maybe (after I help T with hers) I'll finally have the time to read yours! Yay for more scientists and kevlar!
melissima: Confettimelissima on August 16th, 2011 06:26 am (UTC)
Wheeeee!!!!
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on August 16th, 2011 08:16 am (UTC)
Whee indeed! /twirls you/ We so have to celebrate this - tomorrow though, when I'm coherent again. ;-)
melissima: WCSWmelissima on August 16th, 2011 08:26 am (UTC)
/has Kool & the Gang earworm now./
Personally, I vote for chocolate, possibly in donut form.

And also music. We haven't had any Frontier Psychology around these parts in a while!

/Hugs/

Mel
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on August 16th, 2011 08:29 am (UTC)
Re: /has Kool & the Gang earworm now./
"You're a nut!" (Ooh, chopped peanut covered devil's food donuts!) "What does that mean?"

(Now I've got Ladies Night stuck in my head! Grr! We need some Interpol or She Wants Revenge to erase it!)

And yes please to donuts and The Avalanches!

/hugs back/