Intifada

Allison put her phone on the corner of her neatly busy desk and let Jocelyn's voicemail play while she continued to work. The message was brief, and it made the golden-haired Brit pause. If the little peasant girl was on her way, that meant someone had told her where to find Allison. The easy explanation was that Jocelyn told her, perhaps to spring a trap on her when she arrived.

"Hm." She put her phone back in a drawer of her desk, and went back to work, without giving the matter another thought. She would find out the answer soon enough.

Her office was comfortable, but utilitarian. It was a smallish room at the far end of the hall in the back of her spa. Getting to it required that one either have the door code for the back door, outside which her black Maserati was parked, or, more likely, enter through the front, where one of her three salon employees would quickly greet them. The tall double doors at the back corner of the spacious salon opened to the broad hallway of the spa, with two doors on either side. It turned to the left at the far end, and there the back door, the door to the basement stairs, and the door to her office all required a code to open.

Allison sat quite comfortably at her desk, handmade by a French craftsman and imported to her office in Japan at some expense, on a matching chair of deep-toned wood and black leather. Behind her at her right hand were discreet monitors connected to the security cameras. The desk itself had nothing electronic on it, only paper and wood and brass and leather. Even her slender fountain pen was handmade from rosewood and steel. Lately she had fancied the combination of brushed black steel and rich hardwoods, and her surroundings reflected it.

She knew that she was likely to receive a visitor at any moment. The question was which one would it be? She placed a small glass on the ledge of the water filter at her left side and left it there to fill while she shuffled some papers away to make room on her desk for new business.

Jocelyn wanted to run to Allison's sap after she left Lan in the dust. Her heart was racing but as she exited the cab, she knew she had made the right choice. She was pretty sure it would take a little while for the dumb Texan to figure out how to get to the spa and she MIGHT just run there. No matter what, Jocelyn had to get there first. When she approached, she came around the back, taking a glance at Allison's luxurious automobile. Jocelyn hated how Allison flaunted her money around. Jocelyn could have a car like that in a heartbeat if she wanted one. Well, maybe not a car like that. Her father would probably disapprove of such excess. She ignored her thoughts and punched in the backdoor code, sliding into the spa's rear entrance.

As she stepped down the corridor to the office, Jocelyn pressed her hand against her cheek. It was swollen and she figured she might have at least one black eye. Her head throbbed and her lips was bloody too. She probably looked a whole lot worse than she felt but the cloud that hung over her was like that of a prisoner about to be executed. Allison hadn't seen Jocelyn's valiant effort and the Chistralian could only assume the worst as she approached Allison's office door and gave it a firm knock.

Allison knew immediately that it was Jocelyn outside her door, ironically by the lack of excessive noise. She pressed a button on the underside of the edge of her desk, and a pleasant sound outside the door indicated that it was unlocked.

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs to receive Jocelyn. She couldn't help but be a bit surprised when the girl entered, though. If she had to guess, Allison would say the hick girl or her brother got to her, or maybe even the crazed cheerleader who attempted to interfere in Jocelyn's match against that painfully dull Chinese girl.

"Hello, Jocelyn..." She raised an eyebrow. "You're looking a bit under the weather."

Jocelyn pushed the door open when it clicked and stepped in. She looked at Allison and turned her head when the blonde addressed her. "Yeah. That seppo cunt ambushed me." She growled. "She's probably coming here anyway." Jocelyn added. "She wants to fight me in a cage match." Jocelyn was just letting all the thoughts bouncing in her head dribble out. She stepped forward and leaned her hands on the desk, looking at Allison.

"I didn't tell her shit, Sarah." Jocelyn said. "It was that girl. She's the one who gave that drongo your address." Jocelyn needed to make sure that Allison knew it wasn't here. "I wouldn't betray you, Sarah." Jocelyn said. In that moment, she believed it. At least, she wouldn't betray the Brit to anyone else even though not so long ago she had planned to do just that.

"Mm."

Allison pulled a small key from a drawer in her desk, and used it to unlock a cabinet behind her and to her left. She left the cabinet shut, with the key still in the lock.

"That girl... you mean Yi Lan. If you had done as I asked, I hardly think she would've had the wherewithall to tell anyone anything. Did you not do... what I told you to?" Her steady gaze was unwavering while she awaited an answer.

Jocelyn turned her head. Her flushing cheeks betrayed her but she remained steady, squeezing her fist tightly. "The last time I saw her, she was on the ground cryin. I did it to her." Jocelyn said. It was the truth but not necessarily the answer to Allison's question.

"Hm," Allison said, without taking her eyes off of Jocelyn. It wasn't difficult to see through Jocelyn's answer. She was still very much a like teenager, trying to talk her way out of a punishment, and Allison knew exactly why. "That's very disappointing."

Yi Lan was in many ways more of a problem than Bonnie Gastin, but perhaps even more than the ashen-blonde Chinese girl, was Jocelyn. It was a very complex problem, and if she was completely honest, Allison didn't know what she wanted from it anymore.

At least the matter with the Gastins was simple. Judging by Jocelyn's bruised and swollen face, the Gastins, or at least Bonnie, were doing quite well. Allison suspected that the Texans would supply their own solutions, given enough chances.

"Bonnie Gastin is not your concern. Yi Lan is. Do you understand?"

Jocelyn sneered at Allison when she finished speaking. She glared at the sultry blonde and clenched her fist. "Tch. She's nothing." Jocelyn said. "She's not worth my time." Jocelyn wasn't even going to say Yi Lan's name. She wouldn't dignify the girl's existence in front of Allison. Not at the moment anyway.

"But, whatever. If you wanna take on that blonde twat by yourself then whatever. At least let me watch though!" She said forcefully, slapping her palms against the desk and leaning towards Allison.

"Apparently, she is." Allison said evenly. Her frighteningly calm eyes said the rest.

She nodded her head toward the door to inform Jocelyn that her welcome had reached its end. Without another word, she directed her attention back to a stack of papers on her desk, purchase orders to be sent to hand-picked craftsmen, mostly in Europe. She adjusted the mood of the spa and it's appearance with each season, and she sourced each tastefully understated piece herself. It was a taxing, never ending process, but also one that she loved. It was part of what kept her humble little spa so very highly regarded amongst the wealthy.

Once Jocelyn was out of her office and the door clicked shut behind her, Allison opened the cabinet that she had unlocked and removed her grimly pretty Ruger 1911. She placed it on the desk in front of her, in plain sight and in arms reach. Managing the decor in her office gave her an edge in negotiations of delicate matters.

Bonnie Gastin had pretty much gotten lost in Tokyo. She had been a Kyoto based girl for years and when she was coming to Tokyo, it was usually to fight in a match and go home and honestly she had only done that twice. Now this was her home away from real home in Texas. She'd have to get used to it here in this city, her purpose in joining Friction was mostly because of Allison and Jocelyn, going full time Friction was the only way to have ample opprotunties at gettting even. She had left her baby twin brother behind for good, no more tag teaming, he was on his own and Bonnie felt it was for the best because she had long desired to forge her own path.

Still... She felt so out of it being in this glitzy, neon city alone, but she dared not call Duffy. She was lucky she had avoided a concussion and wanted her safe... So against her usual judgement, Bonnie tried to get ahold of Clyde for help but the phone never rang once. She always got that whole 'awnsering machine thing' when someone's phone was turned off. Maybe the battery just died? Either way, Bonnie waited and waited, he was the only backup she was willing to have, dragging others into this mess didn't sit right with her... But did she even have other friends anymore? Cecilia and Heather were... Off doing things and Adrian was honestly the only person who kept in tabs with the Gastins.

During what felt like Hours of waiting, Bonnie was sitting on a park bench, honestly wondering just what the hell she wanted from Allison Wasn't the right thing to do was just challenge her to a match, win and go home? It didn't seem so simple, Bonnie honestly just wanted to hurt her, but thinking about that made her fear that she would become the same type of violent person that had ruined an otherwise pleasant career with AFW. She didn't want to see herself stoop to Allison and Jocelyn's levels, even at the cost of regaining her honor.

Finally, Bonnie gave up on reaching Clyde. Though she was curious and little worried, she had waited far too long on meeting Allison again to postpone this. Besides, after trouncing Jocelyn, it only made Bonnie feel that Allison only won because she fought dirty and not straight up.

Following the directions she had gotten from Yi Lan and copied to her phone. Bonnie storlled through the doors of this salon and looked around eying this girl who clearly worked there. Bonnie felt so out of place with her messy ponytail, skinny jean, white tank and high top sneakers.

"Yeah." She said with a tone that wasntly exactly rude, but contained not an ounce of cheer. "...Do you mind showing me where I might find Miss... Allison Watson?" She asked with a clearly forced, polite tone.