#fshfldhksfd it's so weird posting this chapter when the plot is like MILES ahead

[jennycalendar]

regarding honor and honesty in the workplace (3/?)

read on ao3!

this chapter: jenny does her best to balance being an efficient working mom with getting some intel from lilah regarding what exactly she’s been hired to do.

from the personal files of Jenny Calendar:

Faith is…a complicated story to tell.

Let’s start it this way. Around the same time that I was a bright-eyed, optimistic young detective in my early twenties, Faith had been placed in a foster home with way too many kids for the foster mom to realistically handle. I got called into the neighborhood on an unrelated case, and Faith took an interest in me because of my kickass detective skills and the fact that I’d been the only one to tell off her foster mother’s kid for stealing her belongings. She started following me around whenever I was in the neighborhood, to the point where I started making extra trips just because I wanted to see her.

The foster mother was a nice lady, sort of. I use the term “nice” to mean “simple,” here, because she had a very black-and-white view of the world and wasn’t able to see the nuances of Faith. Sure, Faith could be loud and angry, but Faith also picked me a bouquet of grass and weeds because she couldn’t find flowers and she wanted to give me something with at least one color. She was a very little kid who had had to deal with a lot in a small amount of time, and she wasn’t getting the kind of attention she needed at a home full of other children.

Honestly, I think Faith was the only person who was really surprised when I decided to go through the long and arduous process of adopting her. I kind of always knew that I wanted to have her in my life, from the moment she ran up to me and demanded to know if she could help me spy on her neighbors. It wasn’t an easy adjustment process for either of us, and there are still some rough patches today, but that girl means the world to me.

She wants to be a detective like me after high school. That or a martial arts champion; she takes classes on weekends and she’s still trying to decide. I pointed out that she could do both and make herself a great protagonist for a quirky detective sitcom, and she said “Mom, don’t patronize me,” in a very self-suffering tone of voice that I’m pretty sure she picked up from Buffy.

I try not to push her to share too much, because I know she really values her privacy (funny that she ended up getting adopted by a detective, of all things) and she tends to share things with me when she feels ready. So whatever this thing is about Wolfram and Hart, I think it’s definitely best for Faith that I wait a while on finding it out.

Definitely doesn’t stop me from worrying, though. I think I’m going to go make Faith some soup.

“Hey, Lilah, this is Jenny Calendar,” Jenny began, holding her phone to her ear with her shoulder as she stirred the soup on the stove.

“Private detective Jenny Calendar?”

God, Lilah’s voice sounded sexy even with Jenny’s shitty reception. You’ve got it bad, Calendar. “Yeah, um, my kid came home from school sick and I really have to stay home tonight and take care of her,” Jenny explained, acutely aware of how un-sexy that probably sounded to someone like Lilah. Maybe that was good, though, because Jenny wasn’t generally into people who weren’t okay with Faith. This could serve as some kind of a litmus test.

“Your kid,” Lilah echoed, as though storing away this new information. “All right. Is your kid going to be sick tomorrow too?”

“Hold up.” Jenny placed down the soup spoon, took the phone in one hand, and hurried to stick her head into Faith’s bedroom. “Honey, you want me to stay home tomorrow?” Faith hesitated. Jenny knew from experience that hesitation generally meant a secret yes. “Yeah, I’m staying with her tomorrow too,” she said, smiling encouragingly at Faith as she headed back to check on the soup.

“Well,” Lilah drew out the word, “after tomorrow, my schedule’s pretty much booked till Saturday, and I really want to get started on this case. I hate to impose, but would it be all right if I stopped by tonight to at least give you some research material?”

Jenny had to really consider this question. Faith’s immediate reaction to the phrase Wolfram and Hart made Jenny think that she wouldn’t react all that well to a Wolfram and Hart lawyer in the house. On the other hand, the money from the Whirlwind case wouldn’t last forever, and Jenny needed to make sure she had a way to buy things like soup and tea and healthy foods. She didn’t want Lilah to lose interest and go to another client, so—

“I’ll give you my address,” she said. “Text me when you’re in the lobby and I’ll meet you as I’m going out to buy groceries.”

“Didn’t realize you were into illicit encounters,” said Lilah, sounding amused. “Can’t say I’m not into it.” She hung up.

Jenny, somewhat flushed, let out a shaky, pleased breath, leaning against the kitchen counter and coming very close to catching her blouse on fire. She only sort of noticed. “Damn,” she whispered, grinning, and turned back to the soup.

Faith liked vegetable soup, specifically the made-from-scratch kind. She pretended she liked the stuff from a can just because she knew it took Jenny forever to make homemade vegetable soup, but Jenny had learned (through a trial-and-error process and, later, through a cooking class with Rupert) how to cook because she knew it made Faith feel cared for. Jenny stirred the mixture a few more times before ladling some of the soup into a bowl. Placing the bowl onto a tray with a glass of water, she picked the tray up and carefully carried it into Faith’s bedroom.

“I feel so important,” said Faith with a weak grin.

“You totally are.” Jenny kissed her on the cheek. “Rest up, okay? I’m going to go drive out and get some orange juice for tomorrow morning.” She tucked the blankets more securely around Faith before reluctantly exiting the room. “Call me if you need anything,” she added over her shoulder, “as soon as you need anything, don’t ever not call me if you’re not feeling okay.”

“Gotcha,” said Faith, sounding amused. “I’ll make sure my helicopter mom’s got a landing pad.”

Jenny was still smiling as she headed into her bedroom. Much as she loved wearing at-home clothes and getting to relax, she definitely wasn’t going down to meet Lilah Hot-As-Hell Morgan in sweats and a Sunnydale High t-shirt. After a good five minutes of careful deliberation, she selected a dark red blouse and slacks, combing out her hair so that it fell softly at her shoulders in a way Buffy and Willow liked to call “teacher chic.” She was halfway through applying lipstick when she got a text from Lilah.

in the lobby, u coming down? xx

Jenny gave herself a last, cursory glance in the mirror. Not exactly “alluring, polished detective,” but she was pressed for time and her kid was sick, so it was still pretty good given the circumstances. Donning a pair of low-heeled shoes, she hurried out of her apartment and over to the elevator.

When the elevator doors opened, the first thing Jenny saw was Lilah. She was waiting in the lobby, leaning against the wall and presumably texting someone. Her hair was swept into a stylish updo today, and when she looked up, her eyes were hidden by dark sunglasses.

Damn, thought Jenny again. Aloud, she said, “Glad you could make it.”

Lilah inclined her head in response. Without a word, she turned, exiting the lobby; Jenny had to hurry to follow and fall into step. “I’m sure you’ve discovered by now that Wolfram and Hart is impossible to research,” she said, pocketing her phone as they walked in the direction of a shiny black car. “A lot of work is putting into making sure that their credentials check out in court, but that any and all press about Wolfram and Hart never makes it to print.”

“Why would they want that?” Jenny inquired carefully.

“You’re a smart lady.” Lilah stopped in front of the car, clicking a button on her keys to unlock the door. “I’m pretty sure you already know the answer.”

“I’m pretty sure I do too, I just want to hear you say it first,” said Jenny smoothly, getting into the front seat of Lilah’s car.

Lilah smiled in a way that told Jenny that this was the right thing to say. “Wolfram and Hart doesn’t take on just anyone as clients,” she explained. “If they were known as some kind of prestigious law firm with a reputation of winning all their cases, they would be getting a lot more clients and attention than they wanted. They pick and choose the people who they help out, and those people are always on the wrong side of the law.”

“So Wolfram and Hart wants to protect the bad guys of Los Angeles,” Jenny said, almost a question. “Why?”

“Simply because it’s an incredibly profitable and useful business,” Lilah answered, surprisingly blasé for such a morally awful statement. “They don’t help just any pickpocket or cat burglar, Ms. Calendar; they make sure that their time and money is invested in people who will pay them back later. Maybe it’s in favors, maybe it’s in money, maybe it’s in some rare artifact that a high-up executive feels like bringing up as a conversation piece at dinner parties, but Wolfram and Hart works in the shadows to make sure that the crime in Los Angeles doesn’t go away.”

Something about that sentence struck Jenny as unpleasantly familiar. She mentally filed it away for later contemplation. “Do they use different names in court?” she asked. “Is that how—”

“Oh, no, they’re ridiculously up-front,” Lilah replied, reaching into her bag and handing Jenny a neatly typed list. “Here.”

“And this is?” Jenny scanned the list. Cordelia Chase, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, Tara Maclay…

“These are people who Wolfram and Hart want out of the way,” said Lilah. “They know things that could be very dangerous to the firm’s future as a whole, and it’s very likely that Wolfram and Hart is going to try to swoop in and silence them before they can say anything incriminating.” It was impossible to see her eyes behind the sunglasses, but her voice was hesitant and earnest. “They’re good people, Ms. Calendar.”

“So my job is to what, protect these people?” said Jenny uncertainly. “I don’t know if that’s something I can do all that easily.”

“Your job is to locate them and get them to come to Los Angeles, because they sure as hell won’t trust someone like me,” Lilah’s smile faded, becoming something more nervous yet still strangely calculated. “Ms. Calendar—Jenny—I know this isn’t the easiest thing to believe, but I really do want to do good for these people. I have connections. I can at the very least protect them until Wolfram and Hart turns their attention elsewhere.”

“Lilah—” Jenny began.

“I want to get these people to testify against Wolfram and Hart,” Lilah persisted. “They’re the only ones who can take down the company, or at least start some kind of a process to expose it for what it is.”

“This isn’t the kind of thing that I—”

“Please,” said Lilah, and took Jenny’s hand, removing her sunglasses to look at Jenny with long-lashed eyes the color of sea glass.

Unconsciously, Jenny drew in a sharp breath. Lilah’s hand was soft, the fingers long and elegant. Touching her felt like a dizzying electric shock, and, and— “Yes,” Jenny said, only half-aware of what she was agreeing to. This case was a bad idea, probably, if she was already so smitten by this gorgeous mystery of a woman. “Yes. I—I’ll do my best, but I don’t know what I can promise.”

“That you’ll try.” Lilah smiled, beautiful and unreadable once more. “Honestly, Jenny, that’s enough of a promise.”

“Sexy hand-holding.” Rupert sounded very close to laughing.

“How about you shut up?”

“You called me, dear,” Rupert reminded her, “using the exact phrase ‘sexy hand-holding,’ I am allowed to make as much fun of you as I like.” He hesitated, then, “But Faith’s all right?”

“Doing better.” Jenny glanced affectionately over at Faith’s closed bedroom door. “She fell asleep right after she finished her orange juice.”

“Dawn wants to make her a get-well card,” Rupert said fondly. “You’re sure you don’t want me to come over? I can help make soup. You’ll recall—”

“Yeah, yeah, that one time I blew up the microwave trying to reheat a Hot Pocket, you’re literally never going to let me forget that, right?” Jenny leaned against the wall, smiling. “Look, mostly I just wanted to call you to check and see if we could work on the case at my place tomorrow. Faith’ll probably be okay, but—”

“Certainly.” Rupert sounded peaceful and happy, which meant that his kids were probably asleep too. “I can bring soup over.”

“No way, England, I am not having you busting your ass to make soup and drive here at ten PM—”

“Then don’t call me and tell me your daughter’s sick, Jenny,” said Rupert, as though this was blatantly obvious.

“I was calling you to tell you about the sexy hand-holding and the reason I didn’t go to Caritas!” Jenny objected with a laugh. “Look, just, just don’t worry about the soup, okay? I have stuff here, Faith’s going to be crashed on the couch watching movies, just bring over some old case files so we can go through and research the people on Lilah’s list. Or, you know, bring a laptop.”

“You know how I feel about laptops.”

“Yeah, yeah, technophobic Luddite, I know.” Jenny stared out the window of the hallway, looking out at the starlit sky. “Thanks for this.”

“Of course,” said Rupert softly. After a moment, he cleared his throat awkwardly and added, “Get some sleep, all right?”

“You too, Mr. Giles, don’t think that you can fuss over me so much that I forget to look out for you,” Jenny teased. “Let’s say you show up at noon with research snacks and whatever you need to search people up, and I make us a late breakfast?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Rupert agreed. “Goodnight, Calendar.”

“Goodnight, Giles,” Jenny said. She waited for a few more seconds before hanging up; Rupert never hung up before her, and she liked knowing that he was still there on the other end of the line. Then, after she’d hung up, she added, “Snob,” to make herself feel a little less like she was being cheesy and sentimental. Turning away from the window, Jenny pocketed her phone before quietly entering Faith’s room.

Faith was sound asleep, still; she’d fallen asleep halfway through an episode of one of her paranormal mystery documentaries and she hadn’t paused it. Carefully, Jenny turned off the laptop, tucking Faith in and smoothing down her hair. Faith stirred, but didn’t wake, making a sleepy, contented noise and moving towards Jenny’s touch.

“Night,” Jenny whispered, and placed Faith’s laptop safely on her desk, turning off the light as she left the bedroom.

She’d fallen into a holding pattern, these last few weeks, just waiting for someone to walk through the door with a case. She hadn’t been expecting someone as brazen and flirtatious as Lilah, someone who so easily left her breathless, and she certainly hadn’t been expecting Lilah to have a case this genuinely intriguing. Rupert, always cautious, still seemed somewhat unwilling to take Lilah’s words at face value, but Jenny wanted to believe that this kind of thing could be her big break as a detective. This could be the case that helped her make a difference in the world.

Suddenly, abruptly, Jenny was reminded of the last time she’d felt this kind of hope, and she realized just why Lilah’s earlier words had sounded so familiar.

Wolfram and Hart works in the shadows to make sure that the crime in Los Angeles doesn’t go away.

“Darla,” said Jenny, quietly, so as not to wake up her daughter. “Darla got that light sentence,” and she ran for her laptop. Sleep would have to wait.