Brittany's Travels Ch. 02

"You've gotta be shittin' me, ma'am." Brittany stopped in her tracks just outside the prison gates. Though she wanted nothing more than to get as far away from her home of the past two years as possible, what she saw before her defied all belief. Then again, everything about the past three days, from Ms. Shaw's surprise visit right up to being handed back her belongings and relieved of her prison uniform five minutes ago, had defied belief. But the long black limousine idling in the parking lot was the most absurd turn of events yet. This had to be a cruel joke.

At least Yvonne would be pleased to have her back, Brittany thought as she stood rooted to the pavement and waited for the punch-line.

"I'm not, and for heaven's sake, call me Angie," said Ms. Shaw, taking Brittany's hand gently and coaxing her out into the late autumn drizzle. "I'd say you'd earned a little pampering, Brittany, wouldn't you?"

"I guess," Brittany said, and with one last look back at the ugly building she let the older woman escort her to the car. "Or at least you're gonna make me earn it."

"I am," Ms. Shaw confirmed. "But I think you're going to love every bit of it. Certainly beats the alternative, doesn't it?"

"You can say that again," Brittany said as if in a dream as she ducked in through the door Ms. Shaw was holding open for her.

An older man in a coat and tie sat smiling at Brittany as she slid into the first comfortable seat she'd enjoyed in two years. "Brittany!" he said, extending his hand. "Delighted to meet you at last."

"Thank you, but...who are you?" She shook his hand and gave Ms. Shaw a surprised look.

"Brittany, this is Joseph Farrington, my boss and, unofficially, yours as well now. He had a lot to do with securing your release, you know."

"Thank you, sir," Brittany said, finally allowing herself to believe it was all real as the limousine pulled out onto Route 603. "I - okay, I know you're just going to tell me you can't tell me anything about what this is all about, but I hope I can say I really appreciate it all."

"You certainly can, and we will be telling you everything as soon as we've got you to a secure location," Mr. Farrington said. "And no need to thank me, Brittany. As long as you were rotting in that place for something you hadn't done, it was only fair that we did what we could to get you out of there."

"Yeah, speaking of which, I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but..."

"Why didn't we do it sooner?" Ms. Shaw asked.

"Yes, ma'am. I mean, I still can't believe it ever went to trial in the first place when I never even saw that stuff before?"

"Brittany, I told you, call me Angie -"

"And call me Joseph."

"And to answer your question, we had to jump through an awful lot of hoops to get our plan approved. I've been working on it since even before you were convicted." Ms. Shaw was working on opening a bottle of champagne as she explained herself, and the cap bounced off the ceiling with a satisfying little thud. "Here, I think a celebration is in order for all of us." She set about pouring three glasses, and handed Brittany the first one.

"Thank you," Brittany said. "I haven't had a drink since...well, you know. I was only even legal for about three months before I was arrested."

"We know," Mr. Farrington said.

"But Ms...I mean Angie - listen, I'm sorry, both of you, but it's going to be hard to get used to calling you by your first names. Everyone who isn't a jailbird like me has been Mr. or Ms. for two years!"

"We understand, Brittany," Ms. Shaw said. "There are going to be a lot of bumps in the road like that, and that's perfectly fine."

"Thanks. But - you said 'since before I was convicted'. Does that mean you knew I was innocent even before then, and that I was going down for the coke?"

"I knew you were innocent all right, but I couldn't do anything then to prove it," Ms. Shaw said. To Brittany's surprise, she looked like she wanted to cry all of a sudden, and had to look out the window away from her and Mr. Farrington.

"Hey, I know it's not your fault, what I went through," Brittany said, daring to pat her knee comfortingly.

"I know," Ms. Shaw said, her voice still shaky. "Thank you."

"In any event, Brittany," Mr. Farrington added, "We thought you'd be acquitted at any rate. The evidence against you was so weak. We would have helped if we could all the same, but she's right, we couldn't."

"I'm glad to hear someone else believed in me," Brittany said. "Even my mother didn't, you know. Or my teammates. They were more like family to me anyway. I mean, we'd have a great day in court sometimes, and the paper the next day would say things like, 'Ex Soccer Star Loses Another Court Skirmish'. I didn't get it then and I don't get it now." Now Brittany felt herself close to tears as well, and she followed Ms. Shaw's lead and looked out the window, just in time to see a passing road sign: North 603. "Hey!" She turned back to face her new friends. "We're heading north. Away from Winchester?!"

"We're not going to Winchester, Brittany," Ms. Shaw said. "I'm sorry if there's anyone back there you wanted to see, but it's just too dangerous for you to be seen there right now."

"Why, if I'm released into your custody? Isn't it fine as long as I'm with you?"

Ms. Shaw looked at Mr. Farrington, who nodded. Then she turned back to Brittany. "Brittany, this was going to wait until we got back to headquarters, but you've got a right to know right away. We arranged your release by telling the state you were also wanted on some federal drug charges. They think I'm transferring you to a federal prison to await trial."

"What?!"

"Brittany, relax! You're never going back to jail, I promise. In fact, you're off to some of the most exotic places on earth if everything goes according to plan. That was just a story I had to tell to secure your release. But you can't go back to Winchester."

"Do you really want to go back there anyway?" asked Mr. Farrington. "Brittany, we know about your family, and about Tony, and you just got done saying even your teammates turned their backs on you."

"I guess you're right," Brittany admitted. "It's just, all this time, dreaming of being freed, I figured I'd go back there when it happened because I had no place else to go, you know?"

"Well, now you'll have everyplace else to go," Ms. Shaw said. She was smiling now, her earlier bout of heartache having apparently passed. "To tell you the truth, I'm jealous. I'd love to join you. But that can't be."

"Why not?"

"That, I'm afraid, is going to have to wait until we get to headquarters," Mr. Farrington interjected. "We've already said more than we really should have in the level of security this car has."

"He's right," Ms. Shaw added. "I just hope you're hungry for adventure and revenge, dear, because you're going to get lots of it."

"I'm hungry, period," Brittany said, drawing a chuckle from both of the others. Chancing a glance out the window, she saw a red sign racing up at them that she had seen in her dreams time and again in prison. "Oh my god, Friendly's!" she exclaimed. "Angie, I'd kill for a Reece's Pieces sundae! Can we stop here?"

"It's not on the schedule..." Ms. Shaw said with an uncertain look at her boss.

"Oh, hang the schedule," Mr. Farrington said, tapping on the window behind him to signal the driver. "I'd love some ice cream too."

"Can we get some lunch, too?" Brittany asked a few minutes later when they were seated in the restaurant. "You don't know how many times I've dreamed of this place while I was in there!"

"Of course we can," Ms. Shaw said. "You didn't expect us to only let you have ice cream, did you?"

"Yeah, of course," Brittany said. "Just that I didn't ask about lunch before. Used to love their Fishamajig Sandwich. That's what I'll have." Snapping her menu shut, she asked, "Can I go to the bathroom?"

"You don't need to ask permission for that!" Ms. Shaw said, touching her hand affectionately across the table.

"Sorry, Angie! Just, for two years now, I had to ask permission for everything, you know?"

As they watched the ladies' room door swing shut behind Brittany, Mr. Farrington asked, "You okay, Angie?"

"Beautiful," Ms. Shaw said, blinking back tears. "She's not Will, but she's beautiful."

"Just try to remember she probably doesn't know the first thing about bonding with a mother-figure," Mr. Farrington said gently. "You know about her family, after all."

"And I've got no right to expect her to think of me as a mother-figure," Ms. Shaw acknowledged. "I just hope she'll understand if I can't quite help it."

"She probably would if we told her about Will," Mr. Farrington replied. "But you know we can't do that. Everyone agreed it would be best if she didn't know the whole story just yet."

"You're right, of course," Ms. Shaw said. "And by the time we do get to that point, maybe she'll understand."

"I have no doubt," Mr. Farrington said. "She's got a lot more spunk than I'd dared expect. I wonder how she does it after what she's been through?"

"It's because of what she's been through, Joseph. When you lose everything you care about, it's got a way of making you a lot tougher."

Mr. Farrington only had time to nod in agreement before the waitress arrived to take their orders.

After lunch and dessert, Brittany was feeling a lot more mollified. "Listen," she said once they were back on the road. "I'm sorry if I was rude before. I really am incredibly grateful and willing to pay you back. I just don't understand what it is you expect of me, and I guess I don't feel up to the challenge when I don't even know what it is!"

"Perfectly understandable, Brittany," Mr. Farrington assured her. "I'm sure it's all very bewildering. But all you have to do for now is believe in yourself."

Brittany smiled, a bit sadly at first and then more broadly. "I'll try."

She had a hundred or more questions remaining, but it quickly became clear that there would be no more answers for the time being, and the heavy lunch and the champagne had her feeling sleepy. Brittany didn't know when she fell asleep or how long it lasted, but when she was awakened by Ms. Shaw's gentle nudges on her shoulder, they had arrived at their destination. Brittany looked around and realized they were in an underground garage, parked alongside two SUVs and half a dozen smaller cars.

"Welcome home, dear," Ms. Shaw said.

"Home?" Brittany got out of the car. "Or that headquarters you were talking about?"

"Both," Ms. Shaw replied, directing her to a door which Mr. Farrington was just opening. "I'm the resident director here, and you'll be staying here as well until you're ready to go on your first mission."

"Resident director," Brittany repeated. "What are you guys, CIA?"

"We can neither confirm nor deny that." Mr. Farrington struggled to keep a straight face as he said it.

"Welcome home," Ms. Shaw added, flipping on the light switch to reveal they were in a carpeted, finished basement room replete with a large television set, a wall full of DVDs, and three bookcases stuffed with books. An ajar door at the other end of the room revealed an exercise machine in the next room. "This is the rec area, obviously, and you'll have the run of it in your spare time, although I'm afraid there won't be much of that. Our offices and the secure meeting rooms are upstairs on the ground floor, and also the kitchen and dining room. Your bedroom and mine and a couple of other people's are on the second floor. I'll show you up there now."

"And I'll be seeing you for dinner," added Mr. Farrington, who took his leave at the top of the first stairwell.

"I'm sorry you can't go outside unescorted," Ms. Shaw said as they continued upstairs. "But as you can see, it's lousy weather anyway." She pointed at a huge picture window that looked out onto the highway from the stairwell. It was dusk, and the rain had picked up considerably since their stop for lunch.

"Any weather is beautiful if I'm not seeing it through bars," Brittany said.

"Excellent attitude, dear," Ms. Shaw said.

"Angie, what's with this 'dear' thing?" Brittany asked. "I mean, I'm flattered, but I barely know you."

"You're right, Brittany," Ms. Shaw said, pausing to turn and face her, and clutching her hand affectionately. "I'm sorry. It's just that I'm rather emotionally invested in your case. All these months of thinking of you in that horrible place when you didn't belong there, learning all about your life before you were arrested - I just came to feel a very strong connection with you. I know that probably sounds ridiculous, but -"

"No, it's fine!" Brittany said, and to her surprise she found her hardened heart softening a bit more for this strange woman who had so suddenly changed her life. "I just didn't understand."

"You will soon enough, I promise." Ms. Shaw stood aside at the second doorway on the landing and ushered Brittany into a palatial bedroom. "There are things I wish I could tell you, but I just can't yet. You'll understand once you do know."

"Thanks..." Brittany said it very absentmindedly, for she was gazing around in disbelief at the elegantly-furnished room, replete with a queen sized brass bed, an armchair, and yet more stuffed bookcases. "Wow, Angie," she said. "You can keep me here in your custody as long as you want!"

Ms. Shaw laughed. "I wish that could be a good long time, Brittany. It won't be, but please know you'll always be welcome here when you're between missions. I understand you came to be quite the bookworm in prison, so I had some of my collection moved up here. Feel free to read anything. But first I suggest you get washed up. You've got about an hour until dinner, and you've got your own bathroom." She stepped to another doorway on the far side of the bed, and flipped on the light.

Brittany stood disbelieving on the threshold of the clean, well-stocked bathroom, replete with fluffy towels and washing supplies and, in a sight that nearly moved her to tears of joy, a bathtub. She was speechless.

"Want to take a bath, perhaps?" Ms. Shaw asked.

"You have no idea..."

"I certainly believe that," Ms. Shaw acknowledged. "I've also had some clean clothes put in the closet for you. I had to make an educated guess at your sizes, so we've got a variety of them in there. Only jeans and plain shirts for now. Winnie will fit you properly tomorrow."

"Winnie?"

"You'll meet him first thing tomorrow. He's going to help with your wardrobe. Don't worry about that for now. Just relax and get cleaned up. You've earned it!" Ms. Shaw dared a kiss on Brittany's cheek, and then took her leave. "I'll call you when dinner's ready," she said. And she shut the door behind her, leaving Brittany to gaze in amazement at the privacy she'd only been able to dream of for two years and the opulence she'd never known.

Brittany hadn't felt clean in two years. Even now, as she peeled off the relatively clean clothes that had been in the storage locker all that time, she felt the stink of the jailhouse still clinging to her. She also felt the disbelief of both freedom and privacy that she had so suddenly landed in. It still felt too good to be true, most of all when she finally tore off the ill-fitting prison issue bra that she'd been stuck with all this time. Throwing it down on the thick rug was truly cathartic, but it didn't feel like enough. The room did have a fireplace, and Brittany longed to set the wretched garment on fire...she would ask Angie about that the first chance she got. There was little doubt she would understand, whether she allowed it or not.

She was naked, and private and safe. Before retiring to the bathroom, she enjoyed a walk around the bedroom with the clean, warm air on her skin. Whatever was expected of her, this was worth it! Pausing by the bookcase, she felt like weeping for joy, then in turn like weeping with rage for all she had lost. But, having grown accustomed to holding everything inside, she did neither.

After turning on the hot water and settling herself in the bathtub, Brittany gave in to thinking of the one subject she'd been trying to avoid all day, the one positive thing about her two lost years besides her newfound love of learning: Yvonne. What if she could be here now? Would either of them have time for one another now that there were men available, in theory at least?

Well, of course they would, Brittany reasoned. Whatever their natural inclination, they had formed a bond, learned how to pleasure one another, and yes, maybe it had even been love. She couldn't be sure, but just now she longed to have Yvonne there in the bath with her, massaging her breasts tenderly and teasing her pussy with her magical fingers. She wanted a man to be sure now that it was a possibility, but she didn't yet know which one might next tickle her fancy. Yvonne, she knew, could tickle that and so much more.

She had taken the news remarkably well. "I don't know what you did to deserve this or what this lady is gonna put you through next, girl, but good for you!" No tears, no sign of any hard feelings, and she'd insisted on getting Brittany back in bed that night and letting her have all the fun for their one last time. Remembering that intense encounter now, Brittany's fingers were drawn to her pussy like a magnet and she did her best to mimic Yvonne's expert touch. She would miss that so! Free now to make all the noise she wanted, Brittany opened her mouth and let out a sultry "Ahhhhhhh" as she recalled Yvonne's own muffled grunts of joy and her own vain attempts to keep hers quiet. She would miss Yvonne, but what a relief to not keep that to herself anymore!

After a long and luxurious bath, there was just enough time to read one chapter of a book on the Civil War that she hadn't come across in prison before a servant knocked at the door. "Brittany? Dinner!"

Brittany arrived, plain but presentable in a blue top and pants, to find Ms. Shaw seated alone at the table and only one other place set. "Ah, you found clothes in your size?" she asked on looking up to see Brittany.

"Yes, and it feels great to wear something other than a jumpsuit for a change! Thank you!" She couldn't resist hugging Ms. Shaw from behind before taking her seat.

"You're ever so welcome, Brittany. Normally I apologize for the food here as it's a little bland, but..."

"Yeah, compared to what I'm used to?" Brittany laughed, and Ms. Shaw joined in. "So, Joseph won't be joining us?"

"No, he lives near here and he has his family to go home to. But he'll be with us tomorrow in time for everything."

"I guess your family is back in DC or something?" Brittany asked.

"I'm divorced." She said it not unkindly, but sharply enough for Brittany to know it was not a topic to follow up on.

"I'm sorry, Angie," Brittany said. "I'm really glad I can be here, then. I guess you know I'm not close to my family."

"Thank you, Brittany."

And both women were spared any further awkward conversation when the cook brought in two bowls of beef stew. It was average office food, but to Brittany it was manna from heaven, and she found it easy to stick to small talk after that.

The rest of the evening was passed most agreeably with some after-dinner wine and a movie in the basement. As soon as the credits rolled, Ms. Shaw stood up and said, "Well, I'm retiring. I recommend you do, too, Brittany; we've got a long day tomorrow."

"Can't wait to try out that bed anyway," Brittany said. She stood up and insisted on hugging Ms. Shaw good night. "Thank you for everything!"

"No need to thank me, Brittany. We're going to be great partners. I just know it."

Upstairs, Brittany found some silk pajamas among the stash of clothing. Though a bit large for her, they felt delightful, as did the soft mattress that she sank gratefully into and the almost unnatural darkness when she turned the lights off - no more security lamps blaring all night long. There was still a touch of rain that tapped at the window occasionally, and she welcomed the comforting reminder that she was safe and warm inside.