Chapter Text
As the departing plane became obscured by a shroud of greying clouds, the engine’s roar reduced to a distant murmur, Renee attention finally fell to the island before her. A gentle breeze caressed her cheek, carrying with it a light scent of salt and the soft rustling of the surrounding vegetation. It flicked minute drops of water at her, the cool flecks of reality a reminder that she had done it. She had gotten Pam out of Gotham. Out of the oppressiveness of the smog and the crowds and the decades of grime that coated the city’s arteries. For over a decade Renee had lived a life of service, sworn to protect a city sinking under the weight of its own sins. Renee had waded through them for years, until she finally stood face to face with the city’s naked truth. Gotham couldn’t be saved.
But Pam could.
Renee turned to let her eyes fall on Pam, seemingly transfixed by the nature surrounding them. The high sloping cliffs, with homespun roosts nestled in their cracks. The trees, wild untamed things, with curving trunks and branches that stretched and intermingled in their quest to find sunlight. And while Pam may not have had the sun in this twilight world to give her strength, she seemed to bask in the pale spotlight of the half moon, eyes closed, while overhead thousands of points of starlight shimmered, bursting forth now that they were free from overpowering and yet sterile fluorescents, LEDs, and neons that jostled to upstage them. God Renee couldn’t remember the last time she had seen so many stars. Or the last time she had seen Pam look so damn radiant.
She closed the small distance between them, stepping next to her and gently placing her hand on the small of Pam’s back. The contact seemed to ground Pam, whose chin tilted up and then turned towards Renee, accompanied by a half smile.
“Looks like a fantasy.”
Renee returned the smile, but it quickly dimmed as she registered a faint sound of running feet and clamoring voices. She sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Sounds like trouble.”
Pam looked over her shoulder, a distant thunder shifting into the distinct beats of synchronized footfalls. The accompanying chorus of shouts were growing increasingly clear and angry. She turned back to Renee with a face of disbelief.
“You didn’t give notice, that we were coming?”
“You can’t exactly call Coryana to give notice.”
There was a bright blast of illumination as the torchlight of a dozen guards hit them as the group rounded the bend of the rocky beach path. Within seconds the pair were encircled by the pointy end of as many spears.
Renee could feel the tension in Pam’s body start to rise. Her eyes narrowed, and the tendons in her neck grew more pronounced as she tightened her hands into fists. Renee shot an arm out to grip her wrist, making deliberate eye contact with Pam. “Let me do the talking.” She eased her grip, shifting her fingers to coax open Pam’s hand and rub a soothing thumb over her palm, feeling Pam’s raw intensity quelling at the touch.
The last thing they needed was conflict. Pam was undoubtedly still weak from her desiccation and subsequent power drain. A sudden exertion now could do untold damage to her recovery. And twelve bodies strung up in the island forests would not be the proper hostess gift to precede a more permanent visit.
Renee looked over the crowding guards, eyes falling to a glinting spear tip as she slowly raised her hands. “We’re seeking sanctuary.”
“Sanctuary?”
All heads turned to see another robed figure descend down the path, this time garbed in magenta and flanked by two personal guards in gold. Her movements were deliberate and elegant, with an undercurrent of relaxed power reminiscent of the ocean swell behind them.
“Sanctuary from another citizen of Gotham? Now where have I heard this before?” she chuckled, lifting a mirth filled hand as she approached, joining the ranks of the circled guards.
Renee looked her over, the shorter stature of the woman doing nothing to limit the commanding presence encapsulated by her. “Safiyah” she breathed.
The woman tilted her head. “Ah, so you’ve heard of me?”
“Your reputation proceeds you. Though…” Renee paused. “”You’re supposed to be dead.”
Safiyah laughed. “Come now, a good detective should know better than to put stock in such rumors. But then again, I am talking to Detective Montoya.” She paused and tilted her head. “Though I suppose it’s former detective now, if the Commissioner has received any timely report of your transgressions…”
Renee blinked, more in surprise than annoyance. “You know me?”
“Word gets around fast detective. Seems my sources are more reliable than yours.”
She glanced at the bristling form next to Renee, words slowing with the weight of recognition as she registered her second guest. “Though if I am not mistaken she has brought me the famed Dr. Pamela Isley. So perhaps… the detective’s failures will be overlooked.”
Pam unconsciously straightened, crossing her arms as she stared down the petite magenta-clad woman before her.
“You do little to ingratiate yourself to me by insulting Renee here,” she said, eyes briefly flickering to the woman next to her before returning her stoic eye contact.
Safiyah chuckled again. “I assure you I meant no harm. It’s just that, myself…and the Gotham City police… have rarely seen eye to eye. Surely you understand?” She raised a singular eyebrow, mouth tilted in a half smile.
There was a pause as Pam processed the words before she snorted, shaking her head. “They are a frustrating bunch.”
“They certainly are.” Safiyah raised a hand, signaling the guards to return their spears to attention as Renee raised her own eyebrow to give Pam a pointed look. Pam just nudged her as she continued to stare at Safiyah, the corners of her mouth unable to stop from pulling in amusement.
Safiyah approached, looking over each with an appraising eye. “Your proposal will be better discussed over a hot meal. Unless the Gotham City air patrol is now in the business of providing more than MREs when conducting air travel…? No, I see not.”
She waved a hand and the guards fell into two escort columns behind them. “Let’s give you a proper welcome to Coryana.”
//
Renee looked over her glass as she sipped her mulled wine. It was not her beverage of choice, but even she had to admit the spiced warmth permeating her chest was incredibly soothing. But the rest of the spread before her, while sumptuous, was performative and unsettling to Renee. The long wooden table’s intricate patterns were almost entirely hidden by the number of dishes crowded into every inch of available space. Huge fish, carved and coated with delicate sauces and lemon slices. Silver plates covered with dozens of sizes and shades of mollusks. Gorgeous ceramic bowls equally matched by the colorful varieties of fruit they held. The meal dwarfed the three table occupants, and it was clear to Renee that this was a deliberate show of wealth. Safiyah wanted something from them. Or more accurately, from Pam, judging by the way Safiyah’s eyes had continued to drift towards her throughout the journey here.
Now Safiyah sat at the head of the banquet table on a decadently carved chair, fingers caressing her wine glass. She wore a light smile but her eyes did not betray a similar warmth. They were firm, calculating eyes. As if the thoughts behind them were planning the final stages of a siege. She slowly set down her wine glass, turning fully to face Pam.
“I hope the wine is to your liking?”
The tilt of her body made it clear to Renee that the question was not directed to her. Pam sat across from Renee, rubbing her forefinger on the edge of her glass, seemingly evaluating the wine as she considered the question. But Renee could see her hardened eyes and rigid posture. Pam’s defenses were up. There was a palpable tension, as if someone had pulled the air taut with a bowstring.
Finally, Pam settled back into her seat and set down her own glass with a clink. “Delicious.”
“So.” Safiyah leaned forward. “To business. What brings the great Pamela Isley to Coryana?”
“Well I wouldn’t say I had much choice in the matter.” Pam glanced at Renee. “You could say I wasn’t welcome in Gotham anymore.”
Safiyah steepled her fingers together as she considered the statement. “So you are an exile?”
“That’s the basic summary, yes.”
Safiyah gave an exaggerated sigh. “It is exceedingly unusual for our community to take in outsiders. And recent examples have… gone poorly, to say the least.” Her hand absently drifted to her side. “If we decide to accept your application for (sanctuary)”, she glanced at Renee, “we will need something from you in return.”
“What sort of (something)?” Renee’s first contribution to the conversation was laced with skepticism.
Safiyah gave her a whithering glance before turning back to Pam. “Have you heard of the desert rose?”
An eyebrow raised in answer. “I’ve heard the legend.”
Safiyah drummed her fingers on the table surface, holding back amusement with a tight-lipped smile. “Oh I assure you dear, the legends are as real as you are. And I’m afraid the desert rose needs the help of a fellow legend to once again flourish.”
“It grows here?”
“Grows? It thrived here. We had over twenty acres solely dedicated to the rose. Teams of workers devoted to monitoring its soil composition, its water intake, its available minerals. And in a flash,” she snapped her fingers, “it was gone. Evaporated in flames. Every field burned; no plant was recoverable.”
She sighed. “It took months of painstakingly combing the fields, but we eventually found a handful of charred seeds that survived the burning. This was… a severe bottlenecking event. We are at a critical stage in trying to reestablish the population, and we could certainly use your talents in that effort.”
Safiyah paused, surveying the pair as she carefully measured her next words. “Given recent events, Detective Montoya’s presence on this island would typically not be tolerated. However, if we could be assured of your assistance in the endeavor to recover the desert rose population,” she looked pointedly at Pam, “I would grant your request to stay on the island. For both yourself, and Detective Montoya.”
Pam blinked. “That’s it?” She lifted a hand. “Assist in helping a critically endangered species, and we’re free to stay?” She crossed her arms and flashed Renee a smug smile. “I think I’ll like it here.”
“Excellent.” She signaled to two attendants in the hall to enter. “We have a cottage that I think will be quite suitable. Secluded, plenty of privacy, plenty of garden space.” She nodded at Pam. “I will have someone escort you to the nursery tomorrow morning. I would like to get started as soon as possible.”
She looked back at Renee. “And you.” She paused.
“Try not to get into any trouble.”
//
“I don’t trust her.” Renee’s brows furrowed as she slipped each arm into a cotton shirt.
Pam leaned against the bedroom wall with arms crossed, amusement tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Didn’t you bring me here? Against my will, I might add? And now you complain once it’s established that I am welcome here and you… are less welcome.”
Renee sighed. “She wasn’t supposed to be here. I had it from reliable sources that Safiyah was dead.”
Pam shrugged. “So the Gotham City police closed a case too soon; wouldn’t be the first time. I can’t hold that against her.”
“Look, I had a file on her an inch thick.” Renee began holding up her fingers to emphasize each point. “She’s cunning, manipulative, relentless, could reliably be charged with criminal conspiracy in connection to multiple deaths…”
Her voice trailed off as Pam slipped behind her, arms wrapping around, grounding her as that soothing voice whispered in her ear. “Luckily we’re giving her what she wants. Our interests are aligned. For someone like you’ve just described, that’s the best guarantee of safety.”
She stepped back and tugged on Renee’s hand, leading her towards the bed. “Besides, you get cranky after nine.”
“I do not.”
“You do too.”
She tucked herself into the far side of the bed, pulling Renee in with her. Upon contact with the mattress, Renee felt herself subconsciously release the day’s pent up exhaustion. Her body went limp as she felt Pam sidle up behind her and rest a hand on her waist. So warm and familiar, perfectly balanced by each breath falling on the back of her neck… She sighed and flipped around to face Pam. This was distracting her from the seriousness at hand.
“Promise me you’ll be careful.”
“If you promise me to relax.” Pam placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.
Renee was quickly realizing that facing Pam was not helping her distractions. Her eyes, even without activating her pheromones, were hypnotizing. Dark green, with little flecks of lighter shades and these forest-like patterns she always found herself getting lost in, no matter how often she returned to study their paths…
“You know, I’ve been thinking.”
“Hmm.” Renee tried to refocus.
“You could have just dumped me in the cargo hold of that plane. Paid some agents to drop me off in handcuffs. But you chose to come.”
Renee blinked, then rolled her eyes to deflect the weight of her choice. “Well I needed to guarantee that you actually got here. And the only way to ensure a a job is done right is to see it through yourself.”
Pam was undeterred. “You left everything behind. Everyone you knew. Your career. Your ideals.”
Renee’s felt her instinctive walls lower, and her eyes softened. “I chose you.”
Pam leaned forward and kissed her, slowly, thoroughly, and Renee could swear there was a thank you in her touch. Pam pulled away with a sparkle of mirth in her own eyes. “Left everything behind to make a new life with me on a desert island. How oddly romantic.”
“Well it’s not really a desert island.”
“Close enough,” Pam murmured, nuzzling into Renee’s hair. Renee shivered, the touch both distant and familiar, welcome and yet unsettling. They were defaulting to their old patterns, picking up threads of an old life as though the past decade hadn’t happened. As if certain other choices hadn’t been made. As if Renee hadn’t…”
“You’re not relaxing.” A hand cupped her face, rubbing her temple with a thumb, as if it was trying to gently brush away Renee’s thoughts.
Renee gave a deep sigh. “It’s just… this is a lot to process.”
“We have plenty of time to process it. But not all at once. Just breathe. Be in the present. With me.”
Renee tried, listening for the rhythm of each inhale and exhale, matching each with her own. Settling, turning, pressing her back into Pam. Feeling those long arms tuck around her. The return of that grounding, warm, safe feeling. For years she’d return from the office each night, shoulders a little more burdened by Gotham’s weight, to an empty bed, haunted by the ghost of that feeling. Each and every night, that feeling is all she’d wanted.
She could feel the rise and fall of Pam’s chest behind her. The tightening grip of a hand on her wrist, tucked underneath her. Locks of stray red hair spilling over her own shoulders. That scent that was nearly indescribable but so distinctly Pam. Slightly earthy, faintly floral. A hum as a soft kiss was pressed into the back of her neck, coaxing her into the kind of deep, peaceful sleep Renee hadn’t felt in over a decade.
She would process tomorrow.