wall when the sound of a door opening brought her out of her reverie. Slow footsteps approached her cell and she knew who it was even before he got there.
“Well that was interesting,” Tex said mildly. He looked stupidly handsome standing outside the bars with his hands in his suit pockets. The man spent every day dressed like he might at any moment be called to an Italian runway.
She made no reply.
“Kicked through a wall to get to a man you thought was Savage,” he said. “You must be very eager to see him.”
Zora made a hissing noise of annoyance, but otherwise said nothing at all.
“I apologize for the rough treatment, the fellow you hugged isn't the sort of man one wants to be distracted by a woman.” He didn't offer any further distraction and she didn't ask for one.
“He's not coming,” she said, wiping a hand over her eyes. “Just let me go.”
“I'm sorry, but I can't do that,” he said, pressing digits into the keypad that controlled the door to her cell. There was a dull buzz and the door swung open. “It's unfortunate this has dragged on so long.”
“It's unfortunate you wouldn't listen to me in the first place.”
Tex crooked his finger at her. “Come on out.”
She was more than glad to comply with that request. Cells were unpleasant places at the best of times, and times were never at their best when she was locked away. She came out warily, glancing at the locking mechanism as she went past. It was all shiny and high tech, looked a little bit like the number menu on a microwave.
They went to the usual spot for breakfast, but in spite of her hunger, Zora didn't eat. She had thought about many things during her brief nocturnal incarceration, once she'd cleared her mind of Savage and his coming or lack thereof, she'd had time to allow some common sense into her thought processes. When Tex pushed a cup of tea in her direction she picked the cup up and tossed the liquid contents onto the lawn.
“Don't be petulant,” he scolded her.
She put the tea cup back on the table carefully. “I'm not being petulant. You're drugging me.”
“I am not.”
“Yes you are. I haven't had a cigarette or a drink almost since I met you and I haven't wanted either. I should be curled up in a corner screaming now, but I'm not. Ergo,” she said, pointing a finger at him. “You're drugging me.”
Tex's thin lips curled into a smirk. “Good detective work, but that's only to make your life easier.”
“How about you worry less about making my life easy with drugs and more about making it easy by letting me go,” she suggested.
“Why were you in Iron Horse?”
“Oh for god's sakes,” she rolled her eyes as they returned to the question he'd asked her dozens and dozens of times before. “I liked the climate.”
“You were in hiding. Why?”
“Because I'd been a bad girl,” she admitted. She was fast approaching the limit of giving any form of a fuck anymore. Maybe she'd just tell the truth and let the chips fall where they may. Maybe it didn't much matter what she did. Maybe that old bitch fate already had planned her life for her regardless.
“Do tell,” he smirked.
She opened her mouth and the words just fell out. “I used codes I found in the course of my work for the military and I used them to rob a private bank.”
He spluttered into his coffee. “You did not.”
“I did. You have very poor researchers,” Zora noted, picking up a piece of toast and nibbling at it. She didn't like the fact that it was probably laced with drugs, but she was actually quite hungry.
“No, you were very well hidden,” he explained. “Someone went to a lot of trouble to erase your records.”
“Oh,” she said. “Well, there you go then.”
He nodded, his expression filled with interest. “What happened after you made your little heist?”
“A lot of bullets, then Iron Horse,” she said, giving him the edited version of the story.
“So you have a great many people looking for
“Well that was interesting,” Tex said mildly. He looked stupidly handsome standing outside the bars with his hands in his suit pockets. The man spent every day dressed like he might at any moment be called to an Italian runway.
She made no reply.
“Kicked through a wall to get to a man you thought was Savage,” he said. “You must be very eager to see him.”
Zora made a hissing noise of annoyance, but otherwise said nothing at all.
“I apologize for the rough treatment, the fellow you hugged isn't the sort of man one wants to be distracted by a woman.” He didn't offer any further distraction and she didn't ask for one.
“He's not coming,” she said, wiping a hand over her eyes. “Just let me go.”
“I'm sorry, but I can't do that,” he said, pressing digits into the keypad that controlled the door to her cell. There was a dull buzz and the door swung open. “It's unfortunate this has dragged on so long.”
“It's unfortunate you wouldn't listen to me in the first place.”
Tex crooked his finger at her. “Come on out.”
She was more than glad to comply with that request. Cells were unpleasant places at the best of times, and times were never at their best when she was locked away. She came out warily, glancing at the locking mechanism as she went past. It was all shiny and high tech, looked a little bit like the number menu on a microwave.
They went to the usual spot for breakfast, but in spite of her hunger, Zora didn't eat. She had thought about many things during her brief nocturnal incarceration, once she'd cleared her mind of Savage and his coming or lack thereof, she'd had time to allow some common sense into her thought processes. When Tex pushed a cup of tea in her direction she picked the cup up and tossed the liquid contents onto the lawn.
“Don't be petulant,” he scolded her.
She put the tea cup back on the table carefully. “I'm not being petulant. You're drugging me.”
“I am not.”
“Yes you are. I haven't had a cigarette or a drink almost since I met you and I haven't wanted either. I should be curled up in a corner screaming now, but I'm not. Ergo,” she said, pointing a finger at him. “You're drugging me.”
Tex's thin lips curled into a smirk. “Good detective work, but that's only to make your life easier.”
“How about you worry less about making my life easy with drugs and more about making it easy by letting me go,” she suggested.
“Why were you in Iron Horse?”
“Oh for god's sakes,” she rolled her eyes as they returned to the question he'd asked her dozens and dozens of times before. “I liked the climate.”
“You were in hiding. Why?”
“Because I'd been a bad girl,” she admitted. She was fast approaching the limit of giving any form of a fuck anymore. Maybe she'd just tell the truth and let the chips fall where they may. Maybe it didn't much matter what she did. Maybe that old bitch fate already had planned her life for her regardless.
“Do tell,” he smirked.
She opened her mouth and the words just fell out. “I used codes I found in the course of my work for the military and I used them to rob a private bank.”
He spluttered into his coffee. “You did not.”
“I did. You have very poor researchers,” Zora noted, picking up a piece of toast and nibbling at it. She didn't like the fact that it was probably laced with drugs, but she was actually quite hungry.
“No, you were very well hidden,” he explained. “Someone went to a lot of trouble to erase your records.”
“Oh,” she said. “Well, there you go then.”
He nodded, his expression filled with interest. “What happened after you made your little heist?”
“A lot of bullets, then Iron Horse,” she said, giving him the edited version of the story.
“So you have a great many people looking for
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