Disclaimer: This story belongs to me, there is no direct reference to X:WP, but the tall dark-haired woman with piercing blue eyes reminds me furiously of someone... and the lean-muscled younger blonde too... somehow... *wink*

Subtext Warnings: Subtext, main text and all... no graphic sex although that is implied too.. And if consensual sex (although not graphic) between two women in love bothers you, then move along, this story isn't for ya! :o)

Other Warnings:  Although nothing too graphic, violence is implied as well as D/s. Colorful language is present. And it's about teens in the street doing drugs, so it is NOT always pretty! Beware...  Also, please be kind about the language, English is not my mother tongue and I'm still learning....  :o)

Author's note: Many thanks to those who helped me upgrading my knowledge on drugs, especially Elsie whose emails are a continuous source of enjoyment.  :o)  Thanks also to my beta readers, you know who you are! ;o)

Constructive comments are welcome: pattypat@iname.com

Prologue

"Her name is Eileen Ó Riain, but she's known on the street as The Destroyer," Jonathan Parker, captain of the 3rd district of Montreal's police corps, explained to an attentive young officer.
"Sweet," Nicole Lorenz grumbled, listening and looking dispassionately at the 8x10 pictures being shown to her. "Real name's old Irish root?"
"Yes. She's almost 6 foot tall, 32 years old, she's been on the street for at least fifteen years. She's well known among the skin-heads as one not to mess up with. She didn't get her surname for nothing."
"Drug?"
"Yes, heroin, and we believe she's also a retailer, but we haven't been able to catch her yet. But we want her provider as much as we want her."
"Got ya. Pimp?"
"No, she's a freelancer."
"All that is interesting, boss," the 27 years old blonde said, putting the photos down on a desk, "but what does it have to do with me?"
"This is your next assignment. Find out who she gets the drug from and who she sells it to."
"How?"
"Undercover mission. You'll get on the streets as the new kid in the block."
"What?!" she choked. "You must be kidding."
"No, I am not. You will find downstairs everything you need to fit in, worn clothes and shoes. You'll have to leave all your ID, keys and gun here. All you get to keep is five bucks in spare change."
"Why the keys?"
"You don't expect to go home after eight hours work, do you?"
"Yo.. you want me to sleep on the streets?"
"Gotta blend in to be credible..."
"Oohh come on, I can't do that," she whined.
"Nick, you don't have a choice. You last mission has created a lot of embarrassment for very high people in this province and it was made clear that you either amend for it or leave the force."
"Eight years of faithful duty and it comes down to this?"
"We warned you when you started messing up with Bujold's private life..."

She thought bitterly at the fiasco that case had been. She had all the facts, she knew that he was involved with the mob on multiple levels, but couldn't just prove it yet. Then a leak from God knows where handed the full story to the press who went wild with it. In the space of a day, three months of patient investigation went down the drain. With no material proof, the police department and herself personally had to apologize to the Minister of Internal Affairs, Gilbert Bujold, for damaging his reputation. Nicole also was transferred to some more clerical duties, being reminded that she should be glad that Bujold didn't sue her as he had every right to do.

"He WAS guilty!" she mumbled stubbornly.
"Don't start again... Sorry, Nick... But anyway, you've been trained for this kind of mission and you're good at it."
"Flattery won't help your case, Jon. Awww... Shit!"
"Come on Nicole, you know you can succeed and that'll mean many kid's lives saved. The drug isn't clean. Whatever is on the market has been mix with some other crap. They're dying out there, Nick. You can help them by finding who's selling it."
"Oh yeah, play with my conscience now, will ya?!  If I do it, will I be re-integrated with all privileges as before?"
"Yes."
"Or I can quit whenever I decide it's too much?"
"Then you'll have to leave the force, I'm sorry..."
"Fuck man! And all these years, I thought you were my friend."
"I am. You know you can count on me for help, as long as it doesn't jeopardize the mission."
"How do I get in touch with you?"
"Create a fuzz somewhere and you'll get 'arrested'."
"Great!" she sighed. "How do I eat when I spend the five bucks?"
"Beg somewhere on the street and we'll make sure that someone will drop you some cash. Don't worry, they'll be plenty of civilian cops out there for you."

Nicole closed her eyes, sighed and sat back to think about quitting on the spot. But she wasn't a quitter. Never had been.

"Ok, I'll do it," she finally decided. "Give me twenty four hours to get organized and I'll do it."
"I knew I could count on you, Nicole. You're the best cop we have for this."
"Yadiyadiyada.. Spare me the sucking up, Jon! I'll try to make it, but if it gets too tough, I'm out. Got it?"
"Loud and clear. Good luck," he said, getting on his feet to leave the small conference room.
"I'll need it," she sighed. God, what am I letting myself into?..
 

Chapter 1

On the corner of Ste-Catherine Street and De Lorimier, a bunch of punk teens rushed on the street as soon as the light changed for red and attacked the stopped car's windshield with their weapon of choice: an old wet squeejee. Some had just a bottle of water with it, some had a bit of dish detergent in it to help. Citizens were so used of that, they didn't even bother to look at them anymore. When they had started, some drivers were scared, but then, the population got used to seeing them, knowing they had no intention of breaking anything but just to make some extra cash. For October, the weather was nice and the kids tried to make as much money as they could before the first snow, knowing that after that, people in their warm cars wouldn't bother opening a window to give them a quarter or a buck. There was about seven kids on the South West corner and one loner on the North East one.

Regular citizens wouldn't notice anything different in any of them. They were both wearing overused and dirty clothes with more holes than a fishing net, pierced jewels in every place imaginable and hair color varying from weird to unrecognizable. The punks, on the contrary, knew exactly who was part of which gang and who was new around. That loner was obviously a new kid around.

"Who's she?" one of them asked the older one.
"Dunno, but she better get the fuck out of our square!" he answered, waving three of his companions to follow him toward the lone punk on the other side.

"Hey you! Go get your own fucking spot!"
"That's what I did," she answered, trying to look stronger than she felt.
"You're stealing money from us, that's not nice, girlie..."
"I'm stealing nothing. Cars I wash don't pass your way anyhow."
"You're new on the street, huh? So I'll be nice with you this time. When a gang tells you to get the fuck away, you do just that. Understood?"
"And I'm telling you that I'm not interfering..."

In a quick motion, they had withdrawn sharp blades and with a move from his head, the leader forced the girl to follow them. She thought about her options, but she didn't see any. They pulled her to a backstreet and the leader got his blade to her throat, forcing her on her toes against a wall.

"Now, girlie, repeat the fuck after me: I will get my sorry ass away when a gang orders me to."
"I will..." she tried, her breathing hard. "get away when I'm ordered to."
"Not quite what I said," he shook his head before punching the girl in her stomach so hard that she fell on her knees, lungs emptied of air. "You make fucking sure to never come anywhere where my gang is, got that?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"What? Didn't hear ya..."

As the girl braced herself to receive another hit, she heard a commotion and when she forced her head up, she saw a tall dark woman in leather jacket, pushing the leader away and kicking him hard.

"Yer mom never taught ya to never EVER hit a woman, skunk?" she growled.
"Listen, Troy... we didn't know she was with you... she came stealing our customers... Ya know the rules..."
"Scram while ya still can, sucker!"
"Ye.. yes, Troy... sorry.."

And they ran away as fast as they could. The girl was still on the ground, trying to catch her breathing. That assignment doesn't start too good, she thought as she realized that she had at least one bruised rib.

"Hey, kid, are you okay?" the warm voice asked while a pair of gentle arms surrounded her.
"Yeah... just got the air knocked out... Thanks for the help..." she said as she sat, back against the wall.

The older woman looked at the girl for a moment, giving her time to catch her breath. She looked very young, short blond air, not too much grime yet so she obviously hadn't been out there for long. She's damn pretty and looks so vulnerable, ya just want to cuddle her and make it feel better, the woman thought, smiling inwardly.

"Don't mind him, he's a little scum who thinks he's a big shot," she snorted. "But he's right, though. There are rules and stealing customers ain't welcome here."
"I.. I don't think I was, the cars I cleaned weren't going his way..."
"Yeah, but that's his quarter, so it's technically his customers. You're knew around, ain't ya?"
"Kinda obvious, huh?"
" 'fraid so... His blade cut you," she noticed, "ya should find some disinfectant to put on so it doesn't get nasty."
"I'll be all right."
"Uh-huh.. Do you have a name, kid?"
"Dagger."
"Dagger, right," she laughed, "how about Pocket Knife, huh?"
"Don't make fun of me because I'm knew here!" she warned vehemently.
"Ok, ok... 's all right, Dagger it is," she smiled. "I'm Troy. Tell ya what, ya go back to yer folks and get that cut treated, ok?"
"Folks? Are you nuts?! First, I'm 27 and I don't run to my parents anytime I have a cut!"
"27, Dagger... whatever," she sighed, obviously not convinced. "No folks then. Do you know where to get that treated?"
"Yeah, sure," she lied.
"That's what I thought," she deep sighed again. "Ok, come with me, I'll show ya, then we'll have some lunch. Sounds good to ya?"
"Sounds great, I'm starving... but.. I don't have any money..."
"Follow me and don't worry about it."

As she walked a little behind the tall woman, Nicole discreetly studied her. She obviously had been on the street for a while, being around her thirties, although it was hard to say because street life doesn't really help preserving a healthy skin. She certainly exulted power and she was very attractive. Attractive? Hell, she's gorgeous, yeah!.. She was wearing laced combat boots over some black denim pants. Under the leather jacket, she seemed to wear only a black T-shirt. Nicole wondered if the dark clothes were meant to frighten or if it was just more convenient. She's intimidating, that's for sure!... Troy?...

"Uhmm.. Troy? Ya got an unusual name, for a woman I mean..." she asked shyly.
"Yeah, so?"
"Well, I was wondering where it came from, that's all."
"It's short for Destroyer. Ah, heard of me, I see," she added, seeing the girl trying to control a shiver.
"Yeah, you're kinda legendary on the street..." Shit, the pics I saw must've been 20 years ago. She's muuuuch more impressive and beautiful than what I expected! "You're not like I had imagined, though"
"Oh? how's that?"
"I dunno... you're younger than I thought and you're not the scary woman I heard about..."
"Oh no?" she laughed out loud, "ask that to those scums I just scared away."
"Uhh.. well.. I guess I'm lucky I wasn't on your territory, then," she teased.
"Listen carefully, kid," she warned, turning around and stopping inches from Nicole's face, speaking in a low dangerous tone, "make not mistake about it: the whole city IS my territory. As long as ya don't step on my foot, though, ya'll be safe. Cross me and ya're dead. Got that?"
"Y..yes, I got it," she mumbled, truly afraid by the change in the woman's mood.
"So, I'm not scary, huh?" the tall woman laughed as she resumed her walk toward a drugstore.
"Aw shit," Nicole sighed, taking a deep breath as she tried to control her heartbeats. Was she serious or was she just testing me? Do I really want to know? Nope, I don't!
"Stay here, I'll be back in a sec," Troy ordered as she entered the store.  She came back out a couple of minutes later and resumed her walk until the next corner. "There, sit down, I'll take care of that wound."
"How did you pay for that?" Nicole asked, concerned.
"Who said I paid?! Take it, go away and hide, that's the trick. Easy, kid, it's going to sting a bit... There... Keep it, ya probably will need more later."
"I hope not... Thanks, Troy."
"C'mon, let's bum a subway ride."
"How?"
"Jump over a gate?? Ya know, kid, if ya don't put your mind into it, ya won't survive very long out here..."
"Sorry.. jump a gate, right! I can do it."

Fifteen minutes later, they were in line in front of the Accueil Bonneau¹, a place that was devoted every day and every night to help the people in need. They had warm food and beds for those who were lucky to arrive early enough. Unfortunately, there were more homeless people than there was food, but today, Troy and Nicole would be able to get a meal.

"How a nice kid like ya ended down here, kid?" the Destroyer asked as they waited in line.
"Long story," she sighed, trying to sound sincere. "Got laid off from a job, couldn't get any other, not eligible for Unemployment... Got Social Welfare, but that isn't much, so I lost my apartment too. Couldn't find a landlord who'd take the risk of renting a place to a looser like me... That's pretty much it. Guess you heard that before, didn't you?"
"Too many times," she admitted. "But ya sound bright enough to get another job and get back on yer feet, why did ya give up?"
"I got no diplomas and that's all what they want to hire. Beside, it's a never ending cycle: can't get a place if ya don't have a job, but can't get a job if ya don't have a place... I'm just tired of fighting, I s'ppose... "
"It ain't easier down here, kiddo."
"I guess not," she sighed deeply.

Finally they turn arrived and they moved in to get their food and sit at the end of a long table. As they ate, Troy explained a few street survival hints to Nicole who was grateful for her companion's generosity. The police training she got definitely didn't cover even the basics and Nicole felt quite lost in the middle of those hard minded street teens.

"All right, kid, I've gotta go so ya're on yer own now," Troy said shortly after lunch, as they were walking near the Old Port of Montreal.
"Can't.. can't you stick a bit longer?"
"Can't do, kid. Got some business to take care of," she said firmly, although Nicole noticed her hands were shaking. Withdrawal...
"Well, thanks Troy. Could you just do me a last favor and stop calling me 'kid'?"
"Ok, I'll call ya PK then," she winked.
"Huh? punk kid?"
"No, silly: Pocket Knife!" she laughed.
"Shit, I won't live that one down, will I?"
"Nope. Trust me, people will not laugh as much with PK as they would with Dagger. Ya don't look like a dagger, truly."
"And how do I explain PK, huh?"
"Don't. And if they bother ya, tell them I choose it for ya and therefore they should ask me. They'll shut up, ya'll see."
"If you say so. A pocket knife can also be a Swiss Army one, so I can live with the idea," she smiled. Woah.. christened by the Destroyer herself.. "Troy, thanks for helping me out today. Hope we'll see again..."
"City isn't big enough to hide from me, so.. yeah.. we'll meet again. Hey, a last tip: stay away from drugs, got that?..  Ok, gotta run now... See ya, PK!"
"See you..." 'Stay away from drugs', yeah..look who's talking?!... Okay PK, let's mingle now, she chuckled inwardly at her new surname.

Nicole spent the afternoon walking in the streets, trying to get acquainted with other punks, but either they were in a drug high or a low one, or they just didn't want to talk to her, so her day ended as lonely as it had started. She followed Troy's instructions and went to find Pops'³ van for the evening meal. Pops was an man in his late sixties who had devoted his life to help those street kids. He was both a counselor and a father figure in their lives and he was very much loved by everybody. His van was a peaceful haven for anyone in need. The volunteers that were helping Pops soon noticed that she was knew in this crowd. They offered her a meal and a seat and chatted with her for a while, listening to her made-up past which she made sure to keep close from her real life so to be able to stick with her lies. When she mentioned Troy's intervention to help her in the morning, Nicole was surprised to hear that it wasn't unusual for the older woman to do so. She was in fact a big help for Pops and social workers, trying to protect clean kids from drugs and helping whoever wanted to find a way out and restart a normal life. Well, well.. That's something that obviously didn't reach the Police department! Nicole tried to fish for more information, especially on the drug dealing part, but all she got was positive comments on the Destroyer and not at all the drug retailer portrait her superior had shown her. Something's not right here!

Then, still following Troy's suggestion, she went for the night in one of the places that offered a bed for the homeless. She was early and she got one, but she also soon realize why there were no street kids in there. Older, drunk, antisocial with an attitude.. and loving cute young blondes. Troy, ya gotta have known that I'd be a target in here. Why did ya send me here? Trying to discourage me?

After an hour, she couldn't bear it anymore, so she left the place, preferring to sleep on the street somewhere alone than amongst a bunch of horny drunks. She walked for ages in the now empty streets, then finally exhausted, she found a spot in a backstreet, hidden between two garbage containers. Luckily, the weather wasn't yet too cold and she slept quickly, wondering why on Earth she had accepted that assignment.
 

Chapter 2

Her constant shivering woke Nicole up the next morning, nearly after dawn. Must've push the damn blankets off again, she thought as she tried to reach for them. Her hand banging against the garbage container finished to wake her up totally. Aw shit! That wasn't a nightmare, I'm really in the streets... She forced herself up, stretching her aching muscles to get rid of the night's kink and walked toward the main street in hope to get a couple of bucks for at least a warm coffee. She sat near the subway entrance and held her hand up to the early workers.

"What's the matter, Lorenz," she heard a familiar voice, "got off the wrong side of the bed?"
"What bed?!" she answered aggressively. "Got some money for me, Jon?"
"Learn something useful yet?"
"Not a thing. The Destroyer is seen as a hero down here, not at all what you pictured her to be."
"You need to find something, Nick. Anything. And quick."
"God, do I know that?!.. So, Mister, got some spare change for me?"
"Here's five bucks, go get some breakfast."
"Thank you, my Lord," she answered sarcastically.

Not bothering to look at her supervisor, she stood and walked toward the first coffee shop to get a large dark anything and a muffin, then she went in a nearby park to enjoy her little morning pleasure.

"I see you're doing ok so far, PK" she heard as the tall woman sat beside her.
"Good morning, Troy. Yeah.. I got lucky, I guess, some guy gave me five bucks!"
"Wow, he must've liked ya! Watch out, though, some guy would certainly give plenty of cash to a cute creature like ya, but not without getting something in return."
"Somet.. Oh!" she blushed. She finds me cute? "No, no, I wouldn't go there even if I was really hungry."
"Good, but be careful, okay?"
"Okay. Are you telling me that you never...."
"I never said I was an example to follow, did I?" she cut off a little more harshly than intended.
"Er.. no. Sorry... Hey, can I get you a coffee? I can afford it..."
"No, thanks. Keep your pennies, you'll need 'em later. I appreciate the offer, though," she smiled widely. "Did you go the a shelter last night?"
"I did, but... I kinda got tired quickly of all the drunks coming on to me, so I left. I found a quiet spot in a backstreet not far. You knew it would happen, didn't you? And you thought it would discourage me..."
"I had hoped it would, yes, but I see I was wrong."
"Why would you care?!"
"Look at me, kid. I'm thirty-two years old, I have been on these fucking streets for over fifteen years. I have no home, no family and I'm a junkie. I have nowhere to live, no where to go, no one who cares. Is that what ya want yer life to be?"
"But," she gulped, deeply touched by the pain behind the words, "if it's that bad, why don't you get off the streets, get a life and a family?"
"Because I can't. Don't ask why, ya wouldn't understand. Just trust me when I tell ya the best for ya is to go back where ya come from NOW!"
"I trust you, Troy. I really do... but I ain't going anywhere else. Maybe you don't realize it, but you do a lot of good down here. I talked with Pops yesterday night, and he had only wonderful things to say about you."
"He's a sweet guy," she smiled, "but his opinion is biased. For him, every street kid is wonderful."
"Not true, my friend. You just don't want to see what I see."
"That's right, kid. Ya see me as a fucking hero but I'm not. Look," she said showing her shaking hands, "this is the real Troy, ready to do anything to get her fix of fucking heroin. Is that what ya wanna become, too?"
"Anyone can get off the street, Troy."
"That's a fucking lie," she almost yelled, anger and withdrawal taking control of her. "Ya don't live fifteen fucking years like me without connections and there's a price for those. High. I'm stuck down here until I die, kid. In fact, I'm already dead. Every time I get a fix, it can be my last. If ya don't understand shit of that, then go ahead, fuck up your life as much as ya want. But don't come cry on my shoulder later on. There's no mercy on the streets," she concluded, walking angrily away from the stunned woman.

Aww.. I'm in trouble, Nicole realized. All I care right now is to save Troy from her living Hell and that's not at all what I'm supposed to do... I've got to find her and then I won't let her out of my sight, until I find a solution to this nightmare! But the Destroyer knew where to hide when she didn't want to be found and Nicole's search lead her nowhere near Troy.

Before entering the empty construction site beside the Place des Arts, Troy checked to make sure there wasn't any punk or cop to see her. It was the worst thing to get caught when you've just got high and can't even defend yourself. She used to go to MacDonald's rest room, but since they put those new purplish lighting, there was no way anyone could find a vein and shoot themselves anymore. That's why they had done that in the first place and although it wasn't a bad idea, Troy still took it like a personal attack, especially when she was in need as much as she was at the moment. She shouldn't have stopped to talk to the new kid, she knew, but she couldn't resist. She's so damn cute.. But now she was suffering the consequences of her delay. Taking all her usual precaution nevertheless, she finally settled in one dark corner and made herself as small as possible. She took a syringe with a new needle from her left jacket pocket, a spoon, lighter and small package of powder from the right one. A couple of minutes later, she laid back, half conscious, letting the drug traveling through her system and making her forgetting everything for a too short moment.

In her drugged induced vision, she imagined living a life on a farm, away from the cities and all their abomination. She was clean, breathing clean air and caring for the rabbits. She was happy, she could feel it like if it was real. Then she saw her approaching from her left, coming from the master house. She waved at her with a smile and joined her, bringing a well deserved drink that was rewarded by a tender kiss on her lips. Then the vision changed and she was back in the streets. She had blood on her hands. She was kneeling beside a smaller body, her lifeless body.

Troy opened her eyes in shock, gasping for air. Then realizing she had only been dreaming, she calmed herself down. Fuck, now I'm seeing the kid when I get high! Why the blood? Would I cause it? Can I prevent it? I don't want her to be hurt, ever... That thought puzzled her for a moment. Why would she care? So many kids on the street, one more, one less, it never made any changes in her miserable life. Then realized with a shiver that she knew why. Because I like that little spunky kid... Oh shit! I don't need that.. and she doesn't need that either! Troy decided to avoid the kid as much as possible, although she promised herself to keep an eye and make sure that she'd be okay on her own. Then she allowed herself to go back to her drowsy drugged state.

Later that day, Nicole got acquainted with a bunch of six teenagers between the age of 16 and 19, three having ran away from their parents' home, two coming from the same orphanage and they all were drug addicts. Nicole had studied the different drugs and knew the danger of each of them. This group was using mostly amphetamines, but often mixing that with other dopes. If they didn't get help, those kids wouldn't have a very long life span and the blonde cop felt helpless. How they met Nicole was kinda strange, like if they had been looking for her. They spontaneously included her in their team and spent the day with her. With them, she learned quickly that living on the street was a full time job. Looking for cash, dope, food and shelter wasn't an easy task. Together, they went in their daily routine of stealing, begging and reselling stolen merchandise until they had enough cash to both eat and buy their daily dose of drugs. A couple of times, they went hiding in some shallow corners to either sniff or inject the drug, while Nicole stayed away as she felt unable to assist to that. Along the way, they were also smoking pot and even offered her some,  but she wisely refused.

In the late evening, they all split apart and went into different store to steal some cold food for their dinner as they couldn't afford to pay for a hot meal each time they were hungry, then they met again in a previously determined corner. Nicole was totally uncomfortable stealing, but if she wanted to be credible, she had to participate, so she did. When she reached the others, she was sweating and her heartbeat was twice faster than normal.

"Not used to that, yet, huh?" Cracks asked with a smile. He had deserved the name of Crackpots -Cracks for short- after he went berserk a couple of years back, after taking a speedball*. The paramedics had arrived barely in time to save his life. As soon as he felt good enough, he was back on the streets with his gang. He was the oldest, at nineteen.
"Nope, not used at all," she answered, catching her breath.
"Don't worry, PK, you will," he encouraged. "It's better than searching restaurant's garbage containers, trust me!"

Nicole's stomach double flipped at the idea of getting her food from any garbage, but she realized quickly that it was not unusual for those who where homeless.

"You do that?" she asked weakly.
"Sometimes, but I'd rather get a fix instead. When you're high, you're not hungry. Maybe you should give it a try."
"Maybe..." she answered pensively.

Fortunately for her, the group she was with knew a lot about that kind of live, despite their young age, and they didn't mind showing her some of their tricks. Half of them weren't hard drug consumers yet, smoking pot being for now their main source of buzz, but the oldest were definitely more aware of the different uses of stronger drugs, such as meth or coke.

They heard the weather forecast was announcing a colder night, so they opted for an indoor shelter, but not a subsidized one. They waited after one o'clock and squeezed themselves in the now deserted subway tunnels.

"Watch your step, it's high voltage on those," Cracks warned as he lead the way. "The only thing to worry down here is to stick to your corner and avoid the cleaning crews."
"How do you know it's your corner?" she asked.
"Stick with a gang who knows if you don't," he strongly suggested.

Obviously, it wasn't the first time those kids were doing it and they knew exactly where to go to be well hidden for the night. Once arrived, they shared their stolen goods and had a small cold meal together. Then, when they gave in their addiction, Nicole went a few steps away and lied down, their back toward them, and pretended to sleep. But sleep was long to come, her thought occupied by the sad life those kids were having and her vain wish to save them all. And I thought my life was shit!

For the next three days, Nicole spent her time with Cracks' team and never met the Destroyer. She had tried to ask questions around, but the only answer she always got was "if she wants to see you, she'll find you". For everybody, the woman was invisible until she wanted to be found.  Not only Nicole needed to find her for her assignment, but oddly enough, she also wanted to find her simply to be with her.

The undercover cop not only tired, sleepless nights in the subway tunnels added to long day of walking thorough the city, but she was also frustrated as she was unable to find anything linking the Destroyer to any drug retailing. All she heard about the woman were not only positive but also admiring comments.

For the third night in a row, she found herself with Cracks' team walking to their hide in the darkness of the tunnel. Contrary to the other days, they had been keeping themselves high all day and TJ had even switched from his regular joint to inhaling meth. Nicole felt more than uncomfortable with them being high and acting like they were invincible.

"Cracks," the undercover cop called softly, "is TJ ok? He seems rather.. er.. wild."
"Yeah yeah, we're all like this the first time. No sweat, PK. Ya should try, too, ya know."
"I told you, I'm scared of it," she answered truthfully.
"No reason to be," he mumbled as he walked away to join Betty, the sixteen year old who was his current girlfriend.

Nicole shook her head in disbelief as they went deeper within the tunnel. Suddenly, in the space of a couple of seconds, their life tilted from bad to worse. TJ had been jumping over the railway for a while, singing and making fun of Crack's warnings, when his feet missed the ledge he was trying to reach. As Nicole realized with horror what was happening, the teenager fell against the power rail and, in a mix of screams and lightning, died instantly as 750 volts slammed through his body. His companions froze on the spot, watching in awe and helplessness his now lifeless body smoking between the rails. Nicole was the first one to recover from the shock and, as both the sight and the smell of burnt flesh overwhelmed her, she turned around to hold herself against the wall as she threw up the little her stomach was containing. He was just eighteen years old, she thought as another heave made her bend over and vomit again.

"Fuck!" Cracks whispered, getting out of his shock and walking closer to the body.
"Don't touch him," Nicole warned between two spasms.
"Fuck!" the boy repeated, looking at the horrendous sight.

Cop training catching up, Nicole was able to control herself and motioned toward the frozen group.

"Let's get out of here," she ordered, "there's nothing we can do for him now."
"He's.. dead," Betty whimpered, hiding his face into Cracks' jacket.
"C'mon, let's go out... carefully!"

Numbly, they followed her to the exit and went to sit silently in the first backstreet on their path. Nicole found a quarter in her pocket and went to a phone booth to call her supervisor and let him know what had just happened. He worried for her, but she assured him that she would be ok, despite the nightmares she knew she would get for many nights to come. Then she came back to the group only to find them fight their desperation the only way they new, getting a fix with their drug of choice. FuckfuckfuckFUCK, Nicole's mind repeated for most of the night.

The next day, Jonathan Parker launched some search parties around town to find her and 'arrest' her to make sure she was doing ok after that horrific experience. They caught her by the end of the afternoon. Even though she knew it was a scam to put her in touch with her superior, she felt ashamed and blushed furiously as she was escorted, handcuffed, to the police car. I could never live like this. I've got to finish that assignment and quick or I'll lose my sanity!

She was brought to her old office where she met with her superior. He was nice enough to have a real meal delivered and assured her that she'd have a bed for the night, although not hers. For her street companions, she would have been kept for interrogation.

"Are you all right, Nick?" Jon asked gently, sitting in front of her.
"I'll live," she answered blankly.
"That must've been terrible..." he sympathized.
"Jon, no word can describe it. That poor kid was just eighteen, dammit!" she said angrily.
"Nick.. do you want out of this mission?"
"No," she answered after a few seconds of thoughts, "I'm going to find the S.o.B. who sells that shit!"
"You could take a break and continue later, if you want..."
"No, I need to keep going on or I'll go mad."
"Ok... so, any progress?" Jon asked, watching the woman eating her meal without enthusiasm.
"No. That woman is a champion at evading public visibility. Everybody knows her, nobody can find her."
"But you've met her, right?"
"The very first day, yes. She was kinda nice, helped me out of trouble with some possessive gang."
"Then what?"
"Then she disappeared. Told me to stay away from drugs and left. Pooof..."
"Oh c'mon Nick, she's got to be somewhere!"
"Agreed, just dunno where. Don't worry, Jon, no one more than me wants to finish this quickly. I'm doing the best I can, but I also have to survive out there, and it's a full time job."
"Who are the kids you're hanging with?"
"Not related. Nice kids. Junkies, though," she sighed. "They're showing me around, stuff like where to sleep, where to get a shower..."
"Glad you have help, but don't loose your focus, Nick."
"I'm not. Gotta tell you, though, it's not an easy assignment. By the way, Jon, gimme whatever money you have in your wallet."
"What?"
"You heard. I need cash out there. For the record, I stole your wallet. C'mon, help me out a little!"
"Ok, ok... But don't go help those kids buy their shit."
"Fat chance! If I could, I'd pay to put them into a detox program! You know, Jon, it's not pretty down below."
"I'm sure it's not, but we haven't forced them there, have we?"
"Society did, in a certain way... I'd like to have access to a few files while I'm here, can you arrange that?"
"Thought you would, so I have activated your old login and password," he winked.
"Great! Thanks for the cash, the meal and the bed."
"Get some rest. I'll come back for your 'release' tomorrow morning."
"See you then."

She checked Cracks and his companion's files, took a second look at the Destroyer's, but somehow they didn't quite correspond to the reality she knew. What is it that I'm missing?

Finally, exhaustion got the best of her and she lied on the cot Jon had got for her in the next room.
 

Chapter 3

She was officially released the next morning around eight and she was disappointed to not find Cracks' gang around their usual places. She went to get a coffee and sat on a nearby bench to drink it.

"Mind if I join ya?" she heard the familiar voice.
"Please do," she smiled. "Where on Earth have you disappeared, Troy? I've been looking for you."
"Oh? Why's that?"
"Well.. we kinda didn't say good-bye properly last time and.. Troy, are you all right? You don't look too good."
"I'll be ok, just an upset stomach," she answered, trying vainly to hide her abdominal pain. She was as white as a sheet. "I wanted to see how ya survived yer first arrest and make sure you're ok after what happened to TJ..."
"You know?" the blonde asked.
"Yes. TJ was part of my team. Weird thing is that I asked them to look out for you and you're the one who cared for them after.. the incident."
"I've done nothing but being there," she recalled pensively. "I was too shocked myself."
"How do you do now?"
"I'm fine," she lied. "You really don't look good yourself, Troy. Can I do something for you?"
"Nope, thanks. Gotta go, though. See ya 'round, kid," she finished as she left, running away toward the nearest backstreet.

Oh no, I'm not letting you go away this time. Nuh-uh! she thought as she ran after her dark companion. She heard her even before seeing her, bent in half, throwing up her guts on the asphalt. Spontaneously, Nicole rushed to her and passed a gentle hand on the dark woman's back.

"Are yo..." was all she had the time to say before finding herself against the wall with a blade on her throat.
"Shit!" Troy exhaled. "Never sneak up on me, kid," she croaked, closing the knife and putting back in her pocket.
"Sorry, I was just worry for you," she said before another spasm forced Troy to bend over once more. Great reflex, though!

Nicole removed the handkerchief she was wearing as a scarf and extracted a small bottle of water from her jacket pocket. She wet the cloth and gently passed in on Troy's forehead and neck while her other hand tried to smooth the tense back muscles. Either she didn't mind or she was too weak to complain, but Troy let her do without commenting it. After many long minutes of agony, the spasms receded and Nicole helped her new friend to walk further away to lie against a wall and rest a moment. She gave her the bottle so she could rinse her mouth and, digging in another pocket, found a little pack of tissues she also gave to Troy. Once cleaned up, Troy lied her head against the wall and closed her eyes, trying to regain some strength fast. Nicole remained silent beside her, checking around to make sure they were safe and placing the cold wet cloth on the sick woman's forehead. How much more shit like this can I see before becoming insane? she wondered.

"Thanks," Troy whispered after a few minutes.
"Don't mention it. How do you feel?"
"Not good," she surprised herself by admitting it. "Can't stay here, though."
"Wait a bit more, please," Nicole asked gently. "What happened to you?"
"Bad go," she answered tersely.
"Shit! Happens often?"
"No... I've gotta move," she exhaled as she pushed herself on her feet.
"I go with you."
"No, kid," was the firm answer.
"Listen, woman, you're in no shape to argue with me. Wherever you go, I go. Period."
"Nobody talks to the Destroyer like that," Troy said weakly.
"I just did. C'mon, don't loose energy over this, it's not worth it."
" 'll right.. But you swear that you'll never reveal to anyone where my hide is."
"I swear I won't reveal it. Let's go," she sighed as she tried to hold Troy's arm.
"And you're to let me walk by myself. Do NOT help me."
"But.."
"Promise?"
"Promise. But why?"
"The Destroyer can be seen weak or I'll loose all the authority I gained over the years."
"That's ridiculous."
"That's life on the street, kid."

Out of sheer will, Troy summoned some inner energy that allowed her to walk a few blocks without help, although she did stop from time to time, supposedly to look at something while she lied her back against a wall.

"See that car there?" the Destroyer asked her companion while pretending to look into a store.
"Yes," the blonde answered, immediately recognizing two of her colleagues in the vehicle and holding her breath.
"They're cops."
"How do you know that?" she asked surprised.
"They're easy to spot, even though they believe they're blending in the crowd," she snarled. "Make sure to loose them before turning left on the next corner."
"In the dead-end alley?"
"Yeah... C'mon..."

Following Troy's advice, they took a few one-way street backward before finally reaching the alley where Troy had her 'home'.

"Listen carefully, PK," the older woman started, weakly yet firmly making her point clear. "If you ever betray our secret, I'll kill you. And I'm serious, got that?"
"Yup," the blonde gulped.
"Good. Now, see there, there is a sealed plywood behind the bush. Look, pull here and there, et voilà.. When you leave, tied it back like this. Got that?"
"Ingenious," she admired.
"Before getting in or out, always check that nobody sees you," she specified as she checked around. "Ok, go in now."

The undercover cop entered the abandoned building, quickly followed by the Destroyer.

"Once inside, use this 2x4 to lock it. Like this. Ok?"
"Okay," she agreed, following the older woman inside the partially burnt and roofless house. On the North side, there was no more exterior wall and the room separations were inexistent. "How long have you been here?"
"A month after fire destroyed it. The houses around it were pulled down for safety, but this one remained. The owner obviously doesn't want to -or can't- fix it, so it's been like this for a year or so."
"We're going upstairs?"
"Of course. The cops would find us quickly on the bottom floor, but they're too scared to go up. Building isn't stable, ya know."
"It's spooky," the blonde whispered.
"I didn't ask you to follow me," Troy reminded her.
"I know, I know."

The second floor was much like the first one, no wall on the North side, no room separation. At the very end, where Troy wobbled weakly, Nicole saw an very old mattress on the ground, beside it an assortment of spoon, syringe, rest of food, paper cups and a little butane heater.

"So you cook?" Nicole asked, teasing as she kneeled beside her companion.
"Yeah, but not the way you think of it," she answered referring to the heroin.
"I meant food," the blonde corrected.
"Wait until you taste my lobster Thermidor," she tried to joke as she lied down, closing her eyes to absorb the pain.
"How do you feel?"
"Been better."
"You're running a fever," the cop stated after posing her cooler hand on her friend's warm forehead.
"Normal reaction. It'll pass."
"You need to drink..."
"Don't have anything here."
"I'll go get something and I'll be back, then. Anything in particular you need?"
"Yeah, make sure to lock the door behind you."
"Lock you in?"
"Yeah..."
"Ok, I'll be right back."

How did this happen? How did I get unclean stuff? Why did I let the kid help? Worse, why did I let her in here? I must be sicker than I thought to allow that to happen. Nobody were ever allowed in my hides, never. Why her? Why now? A stronger spasm of pain shortened her thinking and left her in a state of half sleepiness.

When Nicole came back, her weak companion opened a tired eye to check who was there and, reassured of being safe, closed it right away. Safe?

"How did you get all that?" the Destroyer asked in almost a whisper.
"Grocery store next door."
"Didn't ask where, I asked how... And don't lie to me, please! They don't give you plastic back when you steal."
"You're rather observant," Nicole noticed as she unpacked a gallon of water. "I paid for it."
"How?"
"Last night, I stole the cash from the cop's wallet," she admitted, looking as she was embarrassed.
"Good girl," Troy smiled, looking at her through half open eyes.
"Here, drink this," she said, helping Troy to sit up and drink a cup of cool water. "If you can keep that, we'll try some soup later. More water?"
"Not yet, thanks. You closed the door behind you, right?"
"Yup, now rest. I'll guard the fort while you do."
"PK?"
"Yeah?"
"I dunno why you're doing this, but.. thank you."
"Just returning a favor. Rest now."

Troy woke up from her agitated sleep almost two hours later. She was shaking from head to toes, both from drug craving and from the fever. Gotta get up!  A gentle voice telling her to stay put startled her fully awake, then when she recognized the new kid, she settled back on the mattress.

"You're still here." Not a question, more a surprised statement.
"Yup. Want some water?"
"Please..." she accepted gratefully, letting the blonde helping her sipping the water slowly. "I need.. to get.."
"Tell me what and I'll get it for ya," Nicole said authoritatively.
"Inside that wall.. a bag in the hole.."
"Ok, don't move, I'll bring it... Ok," she stated when she returned with a small gym bag, "what do you need in there?"
"Side pocket.. should be some tablets of methadone, gimme one.. please," she asked as she struggled to sit up.
"I hope you know what you're doing, Troy, 'cuz I certainly don't."
" 's okay, it's to reduce withdrawal symptoms..."
"There, swallow gently... all right, lie back. How long before it takes effect?"
"A few minutes... I'll be fine..."

Nicole waited for a friend to absorb the medication and when she felt that Troy was feeling a little better, she resumed the conversation.

"Do you get like this often?" she asked softly, still cooling the sick woman's forehead.
"No."
Gheez Troy, don't talk too much. Ok, no 'yes or no' question. "Why would someone give you some bad dope?"
"Not sure.. Didn't happen for a while.."
"But it happened before?"
"Yes."
Grmpf... Elaborate, woman!  "Wanna tell me about it?"
"No."
Ookeeyy... "How do you feel, Troy?"
"Getting better. Here," she says taking half a dozen little white packages in her jacket pocket, "disperse this in the wind, please."
"That's all the heroin you got?" the blonde asked surprised.
"Yeah... get rid of it, can't take a chance if all of it is bad."
"Really?.. you can't.. exchange it.."
"And get a refund?" she snorted. "Do you think it was sold with a thirty day warranty?!"
"Er.. no.. but, that's worth a lot of money..."
"Yes, it's worth a lot. No, I'm not gonna resell it to some poor kid to get my money back. That's what you thought I'd do, isn't it?" she asked, locking her eyes into stunned green ones.
"W.. well, you could.." she stated hesitantly, knowing that her thought had been biased by the files her boss had shown her.
"I'd never do that. Can you believe me?" she asked, not understanding why the opinion of this young woman was important to her.
"Yes," she answered firmly.
"Good. Now please, destroy it."
"All right," she agreed, feeling incredibly relieved to know that Troy was definitely not a retailer, even less retailing corrupted drugs. "What are you going to do now?"
"What d'ya mean?"
"You don't have anymore..."
"Oh, I have a few hours ahead of me before I need it. Methadone is good for that. I'll get some stuff until then."
"I see... Can I ask you a personal question?"
"Can I stop you?" she teased.
"If this methadone is working, why don't you keep on it and get clean?"
"First, heroin is an easy score for me. Then methadone doesn't buzz much, ya know..."
"Do you need that buzz?" she asked softly, regaining her seat beside the lying down woman.
"What are you getting at, kid? Trying to save my soul?"
"Maybe..."
"You're too late for that. Beside, why would you care?" she questioned grumpily.
"Listen Troy, I like you. You may not understand that, maybe I don't either, but I do like you.. a lot!.. And I want to know you more, I want to help you if I can, I want you to trust me as much as I trust you, I wa.."
"Wo wo wo..." she interrupted, raising her hand to stop the flow of words from the blonde at her side. "You're a nice kid, PK, and I like you, too. But you don't know me. You can't trust me because I'm not trustable. I've done things that would make you run far away if you knew, things I'm not proud of but that are needed sometimes."
"I don't care. I see you now and that who you are now I like."
"I'm not a likable person, PK!" she almost yelled, before settling back down, feeling dizzy. "You're too nice a kid to stick with me. If you want to remain on the streets, fine, that's your choice, but NOT with me. Got that? I'm a loner, I don't share. Beside, I'm involved with crimes and people you don't want to come near with a ten foot pole. So give yourself  a chance in life and get away from me while you can."
"No!"
"No?" she asked, stunned by the firm answer.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because I care for you. Because you deserve a chance in life as much as you said I do. Because I like you."
"You shouldn't," Troy whispered, closing her eyes to hide her emotion those words had provoked.
"But I do. You've been on your own for too long, Troy. It's time to let someone near for a while. Let me be that someone, please."

The dark-haired woman didn't answer, thinking about what the kid just told her. I can't let her close, she won't be safe with me. If she has a chance to get back to a normal life, it's not with me. But, damn, she's right, it's good to have someone who cares around...

"How long has it been since someone took care of you when you were sick, Troy?" the soft voice asked.
"Forever," she whispered pensively.
"Please, allow me to be here for you..."
I can't, it's wrong...
"Please..."
Shit! "All right," she sighed, "but when I go on business, you stay away from it. I don't want you to get involved in it. Deal?"
"Deal! Thanks Troy," she said, her hand spontaneously finding her companion's. "I won't disappoint you, you can trust me." Although I'm a cop and I'm supposed to get you and your supplier arrested.
"I'm not sure why, but I do trust you," she stated honestly, squeezing her hand in a silent confirmation. "I think I can sit up now."
"Here, let me help.. easy.. Okay?"
"Yeah."
"Feel like trying some soup?"
"Fuck PK, how much food did you get?"
"Not much, but I saw that.. er.. pan there, so I thought I could spare a buck for a can of soup. Should I warm it up?"
"I'd like that," she smiled. "You're surprising, ya know that?"
"In a good way, I hope."
Oh yeah! "Mostly," she teased gently. "Yes, in a good way," she added after receiving a frowning look.

They remained silent while the blonde prepared the light meal for her companion on the little camping gas burner and they shared it in silence, Troy simply adjusting to having company, Nicole just enjoying the dark and somehow reassuring presence beside her.

"Are you all right?" the blonde asked finding her friend rather pale.
"Yeah."
"Truth, please?" she insisted with a disarming smile.
"You... ok, I haven't felt that bad in a long while, but I'll manage. Don't worry."
"What really happened, Troy?" she asked gently. "It's not only a bad go, is it?"
"Mostly it is, yes. I've been bingeing for the last three days, so my organism was already weaken. The unclean junk was just too much to handle."
"Did someone try to kill you with it?"
"No, it's more like a reminder or a warning..." she answered weakly.
"Why don't you rest while I clean this," she suggested.
"Sounds good.. Thanks PK."
"Don't mention it."

By the end of the afternoon, Troy was just starting to wake up when something made her jump up in surprise.

"Shit," she blurted.
"What? What is it, Troy? Are you all right?" the blonde anxiously asked.
"Yeah yeah, calm down already. Just my pager that went off."
"You have a pager?!?"
"Got to have a way to keep in touch with my clients," she shrugged as she looked at the numerical message.
"Er.. makes sense, I guess.."
"Listen, kid, I've got some business to attend to. You can stay here or go some place else, but I don't want you with me. We made a deal, remember?"
"Troy, you're in no shape to go anywhere right now."
"I've got to," she said tersely as she got slowly on her feet.
"Is it far from here?"
"Relatively," she answered, taking a few wobbly steps forward.
"Let me walk with you. I'll let you go and do whatever you've got to do, but I just want to be near in case you need someone."
"I haven't needed anyone for fifteen years, kid. I think I can manage a few more without you."
Ouch! "Please?"
Grmpf.. "Fuck, PK! Ya know I can't refuse when you do that," she whined.
"Do what?" Nicole asked, looking as innocent as a newborn.
"That.. please thing. Ok, here's the deal. And I'm not bargaining on that one: you stay a block away and wait from me there. You are NOT to get any closer. Got that?"
"Yup," she smiled, glad of her victory over the not-so-tough Destroyer.
"Let's go then," she sighed. "And don't ask questions," she warned as the blonde was about to do so.

Nicole made a gesture of zipping her mouth shut and they walked slowly toward the St-Lawrence river and the Old Port of Montreal. The blonde could see that her companion was still weak, but thought better than to mention it. They walked for about half an hour before reaching the corner of Montcalm and Notre-Dame East where Troy stopped.

"You stay here or you go back in town, whatever, but do not follow me further. Ok?"
"All right. Are you sure you'll be ok, Troy?"
"Yes. I should get back here in a couple of hours only."
"I'll be here. Be careful..."
"Always," she concluded as she resumed her walk toward the old refrigerated storage that were now only an empty pile of concrete floors without walls.

The storage had been in used at then end of the 19th Century, when the Old Port was still active. It was an eight-storey building used to keep the perishable goods moving in or out of the Province by ship. It hadn't been used for dozens of years and the cost to be able to use the land again being too high, nobody has ever done anything with the remains. Some projects of condominium had been in the air, but nothing definitive. It was known to be used by squatters for different purposes, but as there were no walls, it had never been used regularly for housing.

Nicole pensively watched her companion going straight to the building and forced herself to remain where she was. She was too far to see exactly where Troy went, but she thought that she saw her climbing the old stairs to higher floors. She also noticed a dark Oldsmobile parked nearby, which was odd in this abandoned neighborhood. She sat down, settling herself for a long and anxious wait.

Troy made sure the young woman wasn't following her before climbing the metallic barrier and reaching for the stairs. She had seen the car and knew her customer and drug provider was there already. Shit! I'm late... She pushed herself to climb quickly the three sets of stairs that led her to the meeting area.

"Well, hello Destroyer. I've been waiting," the man said in a sultry tone that made the woman internally quiver.
"Sorry, I was far when I got the page. Came as quick as I could. Before we start, I'd like to know why you found necessary to give me some flea powder last time we met."
"Was Big H contaminated?" he asked falsely concerned.
"Yes and you know it."
"Let's say that I just wanted to remind you of who's in charge in this deal, no matter what you might think during our.. games."
"I'm fully aware of it, no need to poison me."
"Glad to hear it. Shall we start, Destroyer?"
"I want double payment than usual, need to replace what I lost from last time."
"You're in no position to make request, Destroyer."
"And in a few minutes, you'll be at my mercy, Minister . So what would it be?" she growled.
"Fine," he agreed after a few seconds of thinking. "I brought some accessories."
"Great, undress and get in position," she ordered dryly.

The last thing she wanted to do at the moment was being this slime politician's dominatrix, but if she wanted to keep the little privileges she had on the street, like clean drug, some cash and high profile customers, she had no choice. She felt very tired and the bare idea of indulging in this activity with someone who had physically armed her to make his point made her uneasy. She buried her negative thoughts behind the mask of the Destroyer and started to work. She locked his wrists with the handcuffs that had remained on the pillars, leaving the naked man spread eagle and vulnerable. They both knew that she could kill him, but they also both were aware that she wouldn't do it, that she needed his protection somehow. Feeling bitter, sick and angry, the Destroyer let the whip fall on the man's body with a strength that denied her sick condition.

Nicole saw the man leave in his car about ninety minutes later but there was no sign of the older woman. She had said two hours, so the undercover cop decided to wait a little longer before attempting anything, but when the time came and passed, she knew something had gone wrong for the Destroyer. Watching carefully around her, she walked toward the abandoned building, jumped over the fence and silently crept up the concrete stairs. As each floor was empty beside the supporting pillars, it was easy to see if someone was there or not. Nicole could see some remains of other junkies visiting the place as she went up, mostly old syringe or spoons.

When she reached the third floor, she immediately spotted the unconscious form of the Destroyer curled up on the ground. Making sure to step on safe ground, she reached her quickly and kneeled beside her.

"Troy?" she called softly but didn't get any answer.

She checked for her vitals, finding a regular pulse and steady breathing pattern, she assumed that the woman was simply exhausted and needed some rest. She pulled the tall junkie closer to a pillar where she herself sat her back again, taking Troy against her in a comforting embrace.

"Rest, my friend, I'll watch out for you," she whispered, caressing the dark hair softly.

As her companion slept, Nicole took a look around the place. It didn't take long for her to spot the pair of metal handcuffs hanging on the pillars a few meters away. A sudden feeling of anger rose within her at the idea of Troy being abused and tortured by her 'clients', then, after reflection, she realized that maybe she was not the one being tied up. She certainly could look the part of the Domme: strong, leather, gorgeous, dangerous... She smiled at the thought of her companion flying a whip expertly and her body shivered in excitement. Don't even go there, Nick, she scolded herself.

A few hours went by while the two women remained in the same position. If Nicole's butt was starting to feel numb after sitting so long on the concrete floor, she felt somehow quite comfortable holding the older woman in her arms. Finally, Troy started to stir and moan, slowly getting awake and trying to understand where she was.

"Easy there," she heard the soft voice saying, "don't rush yourself."

Where..? Who..? She relaxed against the warm body and took a few deep breath to calm herself and oxygen her sleepy brain. She opened her eyes, seeing nothing much but blackness at first, then her sight adjusted to the pale light coming from the streets a few yards away and she recognized the storage.

"What happened?" she croaked, her throat dry making her voice unsteady.
"I was hoping you'd tell me," Nicole answered. "You came here for a client and never got out... Did he hurt you?"
"No..." she remembered vaguely. "I watched him leave.. and I passed out.."
"Not surprising considering the shape you are in..."
"Guess... Why are you here?" she asked remembering also her instructions to the blonde.
"After I saw his car leave, I waited a while, but when you didn't come out, I decided to find you."
"He saw you?" she worried.
"No, he didn't.  How do you feel now, Troy?"
"Tired... How long have we been here?"
"A bit over five hours."
"Fuck..."
"Easy now, Destroyer," the blonde ordered, preventing her friend to get up, "take time to pull yourself together before doing anything foolish."
" 'kay," she gave in, too weak to argue.
"Could you please answer one question for me? Who's wearing the cuffs, you or him?"
"Him," she answered with light smirk. "Why?"
"I'd hate to learn that you have to get hurt to get whatever he gives you."
"I don't... Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why would you hate that?"
"Because I care," she whispered, holding the taller woman more tightly. "Rest now, baby. I'll watch out for us."
"Thanks..."

"What time is it?" Troy asked about an hour later.
"Around one a.m. Feeling better?"
"A bit, yeah. How 'bout you? You must have cramps holding me like this for so long."
"I didn't notice," she lied.
"You're a soft pillow," she smiled, making the blonde blush.
"Er.. thanks.."
"C'mon, help me up, we'll get back to the house. I'm sure you'd like to have something comfy under yourself too."
"Are you sure you're well enough?"
"Yeah, that'll do," she winced as she got on her feet, holding herself against her companion.
"At least let me help you..."
"Not outside this building, ya know the rule," she reminded.
"Stupid rule," Nicole grumbled for herself.
"Hey," Troy said gently as she caught her companion by her shoulder, turning her so they were face to face, "I appreciate you caring so much for me. Don't doubt that, ok?"
"It's just that I hate to see you hurting like this," the blonde whined, passing her arms around Troy's waist.
"I'll be all right, I've been through worse," she assured, not only accepting the embrace but letting her own hands rest on the smaller shoulders. "Look at me... I'll be fine, I promise."
"Okay," Nicole smiled tentatively, her eyes locked into the deep blue ones facing her.

As the time held still around them, they kept looking at each other, searching beyond the eyes deep into their souls, finding the same affection reflecting back. Slowly, Troy bent over without breaking eye contact until her lips touched Nicole's who leant in the embrace, a moan of sheer pleasure escaping her as she answered the kiss tenderly.

"Thanks for caring," Troy whispered as she broke the kiss to catch her breath.
"Always will..." Woah, that was intense, Nicole thought, totally hypnotized by what just happened.

They remained holding each other for a few seconds more before Troy broke the spell and stepped back, leading them toward the stairs. As they walked through the deserted streets in silence, the Destroyer's mind was working overtime about what she had just done. She had obviously got feelings for the little blonde and PK evidently didn't mind them. But there was no room in the Destroyer's life for any relationship and it wasn't safe to keep the kid that close. But being with her, kissing her, felt so.. right. Like we were meant for each other...

A couple of blocks later, exhaustion and lack of food got the best of Troy's stubbornness and she would have fell head first on the ground if Nicole hadn't had the reflex of catching her before it happened.

"Shit!" Troy mumbled.
"C'mon baby, just hold on to me until you can lay down again."
"No..."
"Stop being so hard on yourself, dammit."
"Gangs can see us..."
"Tell 'em I'm the catch of the week or something," she insisted.
You're the catch of the Century, kid. "Too risky..."
"So what? you're going to crawl your way toward the next backstreet and crash there?" she asked angrily.

Troy thought about that for a second. Fuck, she's got a point...

"Catch of the week, huh?" the Destroyer winked as she finally accepted the young woman's offer.
"Well, one can hope at least," she smiled, passing her arm around Troy's waist to support her. "Let's go..."

Half an hour later, they were back to Troy's hide and Nicole helped her companion down on the old mattress.

"I need a fix," the Destroyer mumbled.
"No," the blonde countered. "First you're going to eat something. I've got bread, peanut butter and jam, that'll give you some of the proteins your body badly requires."
"Are you telling me what I can or cannot do, kid?" Troy growled.
"Yes, and you're wasting time arguing with me. So you'll eat, drink and rest. Then you'll do whatever you want. Did you get that, Destroyer?" she challenged.
"Got that," she conceded.

What surprised Troy the most wasn't that she wasn't arguing with the blonde, but that she was in fact glad to rely on her for a while. Although all her senses told her that she should ask the girl to leave, she couldn't seem to be able to do so. Worse, the simple idea of sending her away and not seeing her again made her heart hurt. Damn...

"Can I ask you a question, Troy?" the blonde asked while chewing on her piece of bread.
"I don't guarantee an answer, but go ahead."
"During all these years you've been on the street, did you ever think of stopping, going back to a normal life?"
"Sure I did, long time ago," she admitted.
"And?" Nicole insisted as her companion didn't extrapolate.
"And what?"
"Did you try?"
"No."
"Why not?" she pushed further.
"I dunno," she sighed, "many reasons I s'ppose. First, I can't afford detox. Second, IF I could detox, what would I do after? I can't work, I know nothing beside Street Survival 101. Where would I live? With which money? Naan.. there is only one way out of this for me, kid: death."
"There is always an alternative, Troy."
"Not for me. Beside, the same people that allows me to survive down here wouldn't allow me to move up there. But you, kid, ya still have a chance to move away from all this. Ya should take it."
"Those people can't do anything if you decide to go clean."
"Wrong. They're high profile, they have the power to make sure I don't succeed."
"There must be an alternative to dying, Destroyer," the blonde spat angrily.
"Listen, kid, every time I get high, I play Russian roulette and I know it. And to a certain extend, I would even welcome death so I wouldn't have to endure all that daily shit around me," she ended almost in a mumble.
"Don't say that," Nicole shivered.
"You asked," she shrugged. "Now I'd suggest that you go and get yourself a life because I'm going to get a fix and it's not particularly a pretty sight. Beside, I don't want to be the one showing you the Heroin Abuser's Manual."
"D.. do you mind if I stay?"
"This is not your 8pm TV show, kid. I don't want spectators."
"Look, I.. I'm worry and I'd just like to be here, in case..."
"Why the fuck would you worry for me?!" she grumbled.
"Is that so unbelievable?"
"Yes..."
"Well, try, because I really do worry and care for  you, Destroyer.  Let me stay, please?"
"Fuck... yeah... do what ya want then," she gave up, taking out what she needed for her injection.

While the dark-haired woman ignored her, Nicole observed the almost ceremonial way she was preparing herself for the intravenous injection, liquefying a bit of white powder and water in a spoon over the flame, sucking it in the syringe and getting ready. Nicole had only a vague idea of what would or could happen once the liquid would it the blood, but if she wasn't sure to know how to react, she was certain that she wanted to be there for her companion.

"Troy?"
"Not now," she growled between clenched teeth.
"Ca.. After.. can I hold you?" the blonde asked sheepishly.
"If it makes ya feel better. I won't even know it," she shrugged, pulling her sleeve up, revealing multiple bruises and scars from previous shots. She tied up an wide elastic band on her biceps to stop the blood flow.

Without looking twice, the Destroyer expertly pushed the needle in the vein and injected the drug quickly before removing the band, leaving the blood flow free to bring the heroin toward her brain. A few seconds later, she let herself down on the mattress, absorbing the effects of the powerful drug and enjoying the rush feeling it produced. Softly, Nicole moved behind the older woman, sitting against the wall and pulling her against herself, almost in the same position they've been at the storage earlier.

"Steady Destroyer, steady. I'll watch the fort, so relax," she whispered, tenderly caressing the black hair of the doped woman.

Almost as quick as it has started, the euphoria died down and let Troy in a state of half consciousness that would last a few hours. She made no move to either acknowledge or refuse Nicole's tender embrace. As her breathing pattern decreased visibly, the undercover cop started to get really worry but decided to remain there for the moment, hoping it'll get back to normal soon.

"Somewhere in there," she murmured, "I know you can hear this, Eileen... I'm not sure how yet, but I swear I'll get you out of this. I've just found you and I have no intention of letting you go."

I've got to get you out of this, she thought, because we were meant for each other. Don't ask me why, I just know we were. And I'm certain our destiny isn't to end up of overdose in a backstreet. Hang on, baby. We'll beat the odds, you and I, and we'll win!
 

Chapter 4

The sun was already high up when Troy woke up with a start.

"Easy tiger," she heard in her sleepy state, relaxing as soon as she realized who had spoken. She found herself in the blonde's embrace and she surprisingly enjoyed the warm feeling it created deep inside her. Damn, I could get used to this.
"Morning," she mumbled, not moving an inch.
"That it is," Nicole smiled, her eyes locking on bright blue ones. "Did you sleep well?"
"Yeah... Did ya?"
"Little bit, but enough, yes."
"Shit, kid, ya hold me all night like this? Ya musta have cramps by now..."
"I'm fine. You don't have to move, I like to hold you," she admitted, blushing.
"Ya do, huh?.. Well," she continued after the shy nod from her companion, "I kinda like to be held like this." Shit, what's wrong with me?!
"Good," she grinned happily. "How do you feel?"
" 'kay... fuzzy around the edges.. normal, though."
"Wanna eat something?"
"No, but feel free to do so," she smiled after hearing a low rumble from her friend's empty stomach.
"I'll eat if you eat," Nicole stubbornly stated.
"Aww kid, I'm not hungry.. just go ahead, ok?"
"Nuh-uh."

Troy mentally calculated how long she could stretch the time until her next shot and, although it would be tight, she figured she could do it for the kid.

"Tell ya what, ya eat a lil' something now and we both go have lunch at Bonneau. How's that sound?"
"Cool," she smiled, happy to see her companion so willingly accepting both a meal and her company.

The Destroyer pushed herself in a sitting position, freeing her companion who stood up and stretched her cramped muscles before reaching for a piece of bread. While she was spreading peanut butter and jam on the slice, Troy silently kept looking at her, admiring her beauty and burning it in her memory for later contemplation.

"D'ya have a first name I could call ya?" the dark woman asked pensively. "I'm not too fond of PK and you probably don't like Kid," she explained.
"Nicole, or Nick," the blonde answered honestly. "You?"
"Has been Troy for the last fifteen years and will remain Troy," she growled.
"Sorry I asked," the cop mumbled, her voice betraying her pain.
Shit... "No, I'm sorry Nick," the Destroyer said sincerely. "I shouldn't have snapped at ya like that. It was Eileen, but the person bearing that name died a long time ago. Now, there is only Troy. Ok?"
"If you want to be called like that, fine, but I can tell you that Eileen, under Troy's tough & rough attitude, is not dead, she's just dormant. Don't give up hope, my friend."
"I'm beyond giving up, I don't have hopes anymore."
"Try harder."

Deep in the back of her mind, a little voice who sounded a lot like young Eileen told her that she should listen to the kid, but the Destroyer pushed it back quickly. But what if she's right?

"Nicole..." she started, embarrassed and looking at her hands, "why are ya sticking with me? what is it ya see that nobody else -not even me- sees?"
"You are projecting the image of someone strong and invincible," she explained calmly, sitting only inches in front of her, "and you work hard to keep that image alive. Nobody messes with the Destroyer, right? But... there is that connection between us that makes me see beyond that, that makes me know that you're tired of it, that you have a good heart, that you're sad and lonely..."
"A connection?"
"Yes... like I've know you forever... And somehow, I know you feel it too, even if you won't admit it yet."

In her habit to keep up appearances, she snorted at Nicole's last comment, but her mind told her that it was true. She felt that connection, and she did since the first moment they met.

"Doesn't explain why ya wanna stick with me?"
"Oh yes it does," she sighed. "Look at me, Troy," she ordered softly. "Paradoxally, when I am with you, I feel that I've found a home I've been looking for many years. You are an extraordinary woman, strong and weak, distant yet caring... and you have the most incredible warm blue eyes I've ever seen."

They locked eyes for a silent moment before Nicole resumed her speech.

"In the few days we've been together, I've grown very fond of you," she said, trying to choose her words carefully as to not make the other woman run away. "You are very important to me and when you hurt, I hurt."
"You're in for lotsa pain, then," she croaked, unable to break the eye contact.
"But if we put both our minds on it, we can beat the odds, you can get clean and start in new."
"I wish I could believe you," she whispered, hypnotized by the green eyes of her blonde companion.
"Believe it, Eileen. Believe it!"

Slowly, unconsciously, their bodies became closer and soon their lips met in a tender and pain filled kiss. Shy at first, Nicole pushed her luck a little further, biting Troy's lower lip and making her groan softly. Their lips parted, giving way for their tongues to meet in a passionate embrace that stroke them by its intensity. Only the need to breathe separated them minutes later.  Wow! they both thought silently, eyes once again locked onto each other's.

"I love you," the blonde whispered, "as Troy and as Eileen. I love you both."
"You don't know.. You shouldn't.." was all what the dark-haired woman was able to say, before closing her eyes with a deep sigh.
"Shhht.. Trust me, please. Whether I know what you did in the past or not will not change how I feel."
"It will," she sadly stated.
"No, it will not. But the only way to be sure is for you to tell me... Let me in, baby, and have faith in us."
"I.. I can't.. not yet anyway."
"Well, not yet is better than a straight 'no'," Nicole smiled. "Maybe we shouldn't rush anything, take it one hour at the time. Sounds cool to you, babe?"
"Yeah..." she smiled to her attentive companion. "Thanks..."
"Shhht... It's all right. Everything will be all right. I promise," she concluded, hugging her companion tightly.

Now, aren't you sweet promising something you may not be able to hold, Nicole thought bitterly, wishing that she could be anything but a police officer. I'm not doing too well at my job. Falling in love with the prime suspect isn't recommended in our books. Well... fuck the books! I WILL get Eileen out of this nightmare! I swear I will!

Continued in part two....

Return to Patty Pat's fanfic index

¹ Accueil Bonneau - Wanna help? Make a gift...
² Ref. National Institute on Drug Abuse, research reports
³ Pops, Father Emmett Johns

He is also called "the god of the street".
He is a Saint.
To know more, check his website.

Want to help his work? Make a gift..
http://www.danslarue.com/

Images from Croc's site

* Speedball: a mix of cocaine, heroin and amphetamine.
A real story about drugs & teens:  "Christiane F." ©1981

Image by Patty Pat