"Well what's your plan then?" Damian demanded before crossing his arms. "What is it, if mine is so goddamn pitiful?"

The leaves started changing colors, but the same, sadly, could not be said for Piper and Damian. All they did was shake hands; neither of them could be truly shocked at its complete and utter non-effect.

But it wasn't Piper's fault, obviously, because for the umpteenth time she asked where he was going to go and for the umpteenth time he lacked a proper answer. She was just trying to help. But it definitely was Piper's fault, clearly, because her saying that he needed a place to go wasn't suddenly going to make a safe house materialize for him, and it wasn't going to make the funds for one appear. Like she kindly pointed out, he had no friends and no family.

If only they could say that instead of their usual back and forth.

"Why should I tell you?"

"You're kidding, right?"

Optimistic that divulging that information to him would be motivation for narrowing down his destination from I Dunno, Somewhere, she told him, "I have three plans, actually. I've pretty much narrowed it down to two and a back-up, but I'm either going toward my places in Toronto, Cuba, or Italy. The one in Toronto is starting to become my favorite, but it's also the closest to here. I'm thinking of ex-ing out Italy because it's up in the mountains near the Swiss border and I'm not really into heights or freezing my ass off 365 days a year on average." By now Damian was looking at her through narrow eyes, jaw tightened. Oblivious, Piper continued. "Technically Cuba would be the smartest place, but it was definitely more a of a vacation home, and I don't want to get bored of it, you know? Plus, I'd have to go through Mexico and that's so overdone and definitely predictable. But no matter which I pick I have very detailed plans to get to each, meanwhile you sit here with your thumb up your ass."

"Honestly, Castell, sometimes you amaze me."

Ironic that the first genuine smile she'd give him would come from something she missed the irony in.

"I don't think I've ever in my entire life met someone as blindingly self-centered as you."

The smile was dropped at about the same speed as the light the darkened in her eyes. "Excuse me?"

"Exactly how rich are you? Millionaire? Hundred-millionaire? Billionaire? You know what, doesn't matter. The rich can be crass, but you're just on an entirely different level." His voice wasn't accusing, it was more astounded than anything. For some reason, that made Piper's cheeks start to turn crimson from what would certainly become anger in a matter of seconds if he didn't stop talking. He didn't.

"You never bothered to ask why I don't know what I'm doing, did you? At the moment I can probably afford a tent and go camping in the wilderness for the rest of my life. That's probably what's going to happen if I'm honest because I don't really have another choice. And I don't mind, really, I like nature and I like being by myself.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not mad or jealous that you have options. Kudos to you for having a shitload of money and then some, but you know damn well that I have nothing— literally nothing, including people— and you have the nerve to sit there and be picky about things I'd chew my own arm off for? I'm sorry, Cuba's not good enough because you don't want to get tired of the view is the most bullshit thing I've ever heard. I've never even left Oregon."

"You're the one that asked," she countered hotly.

"And you don't have a shred of decency. Or humility. You can buy anything you want, and that's great, but maybe you should invest in a slice of humble pie."

"You're the one that asked," she repeated.

Damian didn't retaliate, and a tense silence fell over them. Why did that always happen?

He sighed. "So much for our truce."

Despite claiming he wasn't envious of Piper's wealth, that's all Damian felt. He was green, and all he could see was red. She had a far better, more luxurious life than him before ending up in jail, and would have a far better, more luxurious life after breaking out of it. Obviously the rules of karma didn't exist in the realm of Piper Castell. Then again, the only thing that did was Piper Castell. But that wasn't new. What was new was the knowledge of her multiple houses, unsurprisingly in amazing, exotic places he didn't even dare dream of going because there was no possible way it would ever happen. It wasn't fair she still had all the good things in life while the bad just couldn't help but chase him down like he was an antelope running from a hungry lion.

About half past one on Saturday afternoon, Piper sat in the visiting hall alone for the ninth week in a row. Or was it the tenth? Tommy took to sneaking her name onto the list of inmates allowed in the open room, just in case her brother actually decided to show up, but every week she sat by herself for four hours, starring daggers at the happy couples, families, and friends. She'd be the only one without a smile on her face. And, as annoyed and impatient as she felt getting out of bed this morning— if Peter couldn't be bothered she shouldn't either— she still found herself at their usual table, bored and waiting.

Two o'clock passed, as did two-thirty and three, and still Piper sat. Hope was such a stupid concept to her. She could never understand why people would just sit on their ass and wish instead of getting off their ass and actually doing something, but that's exactly what she was doing this week, and all the weeks prior. There wasn't really anything she wanted more than to have her brother back. Without him, all she had was Damian, who was always against her, and Tommy, who she couldn't even really talk to without causing suspicion. If there was anything she needed more than to break out of jail, it was to stop being so goddamn lonely.

That being said, when he sauntered in at 3:48PM, she went from boredom to elation to vexed in about .3 seconds. She tried to hide her agitation when he beamed at her as if their meeting was planned, but she ended up scowling anyway.

"Hey Pipes, what's up?"

"Oh you know, same old, same old," she bit. "Still stuck in jail and whatnot."

"Well yeah, but that was a bit avoidable, you have to admit. But I didn't come here to fight, You probably get enough of that from your partner in crime." He laughed at that. "Usually that has a less literal meaning and more of an attached-at-the-hip one, but that's probably the last place either of you two want to be, including here."

Piper was less than amused.

"How is he, anyway?"

"How is he?" she repeated.

"That's what I asked."

"Well, we made a truce, that's why the plan's back on, the next day he told me I was a selfish piece of shit, and the day after that I told him the first thing I'm going to do when we get out is run him over with a truck. So yeah he's fine, but he might not be very soon and he still doesn't have a plan and I'm not doing anything until he has a plan. I refuse to get caught because he's an airhead."

"Why don't you try to work it out with him?"

"I've tried, ok? And the he called me a selfish piece of shit."

Peter tilted his head to the side. "You help him… so he calls you selfish… That doesn't make any sense." Piper explained their conversation, and at the end of it, he said, "Oh selfishness isn't your problem. You just have no tact. Like, none."

"Hey!" she protested.

"Let's go through this again: he's clueless, he asks what you're doing, you house drop the guy who has no house. That's the definition of 'no tact.' I'm pretty sure that's exactly what they put in Webster's."

With a frown, she muttered, "You always take his side."

"Because he has a point every so often and because you're so, well, you, you ignore it."

"Whatever," she dismissed, oblivious that she was doing exactly what her brother just accused her of. "I feel like every time I see you we talk about him. How're you?"

Apparently, while Piper was sitting in her eight by ten, Peter was soaking up the last bit of the lazy summer haze. He even went on a date. It was a struggle to not show how bitter he was making her. Yeah, yeah, as a free man he had the right to live his life, but as the person he's been ignoring, to know he wasn't as miserable as she was sucked. And to know he was actually having fun sucked more. Even so, she was glad to have him back. Kind of. It's what she sat and waited for, wasn't it?

They spent the next hour just talking, thankfully nothing Damian-related, and before she knew it, visiting hours were coming to a close. The resentment she was feeling didn't dissipate, but it was still sad to see him go. Nevertheless, she knew he was definitely coming, so that was a definite improvement over the past however many weeks. She hugged him goodbye, to end their visit on a good not, but before he left, he had to bring it back to Damian.

"It's kind of funny if you think about it; you two hate each other as much as you hate jail, but that's pretty much why you're still here."

Peter's parting words occupied her thoughts as she dragged her feet down the long empty corridor toward her cell block. A year ago, when she first started scoping out potentials, Damian caught her attention when he kicked Ray 'Buttercup' Donovan's ass in the hallway. See, Donovan wanted to prove himself as someone to not mess with, and thought the Damian the loner would be the perfect choice since no one would seek revenge for 'going after their boy' or, worse, join the fight. But unluckily for him he chose the wrong guy. Damian taunted him, humiliated him, gave him his nickname, and subsequently knocked out any chance of Buttercup ever having any street cred, along with a tooth. After hearing him speak, even though he was making fun of someone, it was plain that he was worlds more intelligent than most of the idiots that resided in the prison. In hindsight, she should've known he'd eventually became the biggest pain in the ass the world had ever seen, but other than that she didn't regret her choice. Really, it wasn't like they didn't try to not hate each other, but so far every attempt ended in yet another argument— often ones they already had. She needed a plan. She could plan the most elaborate heists, so coming up with a strategy to get along with Damian shouldn't be that hard, other than the fact that it was impossible.

If she could just start everything over life would be a lot easier.

"Piper!" an unfamiliar voice called. She turned around and a young lanky guy ran up to her. "Oh my god, it's actually you." Before she could ask what the hell he was talking about because no shit, Sherlock she was actually her, he grabbed her hand and shook it vigorously. "I'm a huge, huge fan of yours. I have to ask, you hijacked that plane, right? Absolutely brilliant."

Piper was grinning so damn hard she probably looked half insane, but it didn't matter because this guy was her fan. She had fans. "Rule number one is if they can't pin you to it, don't admit to it. What's your name?"

"Bobby, but most people call me Raph."

"How'd you end up in a place like this, Raph?"

"Same as you, really," he said, blushing. "But a lot less successful. Wow, I can't believe I'm actually the same prison as Piper Castell. Seriously, it's such an honor."

He launched into a series of questions, like how long she had left, what exactly they got her for, how she managed to steal a plane, and Piper was more than happy to answer everything (except the latter, which she still denied ever happened).

"Wow, you're truly one of the greats," Raph gushed at the end of her tale about stealing art from right under the fed's nose.

She laughed in response, highly flattered. "I could've done a little more, like not getting caught, but hey not like it's forever." Why she said that, she had no idea. But Raph didn't seem like the type to read too much into anything. Except her life, apparently, which was beyond awesome.

"I remember when you got caught, actually. It's crazy, I was about to pull off one of my first heists. A Dali, actualy. I dedicated it to you."

"Aw, that's very sweet of you, and Dali is a great choice, let me tell you. What piece was it?"l

"'Girls With Curls.' I find it almost as pretty as I find you."

Laughing, Piper replied, "Was that a line? I think that was a line. Is that Dali think actually even true?"

"Nothing I've said is a lie, scout's honor." He puffed his chest out slightly and did the three-fingered sign, looking very satisfied when he drew another laugh out of her. Shame he wasn't around last year. He'd make a better accomplice than Damian a thousand times over. Especially because he liked her.

"Well thank you, Raph, 'Girls With Curls' is one of my favorites."

"You can have it, if you want," he blurted out without hesitation. "I still have it. Maybe we're both out of here I can give it to you?"

Yes, she thought with a rueful smile, what a shame he wasn't around.

A/N: Wow, it's been a while (and by that I mean a really long while). Sorry I've been awol for so long, but my computer broke in literally every way imaginable and all of my files were destroyed for this story, as well as everything else I'd ever done, so this is a fresh start! I'm actually kinda nervous about this chapter since I was basically flying blind through it and I had about half the chapter written before I lost it, and this is completely different. Anyway, thanks for reading, and thank you for your wonderful comments, I really appreciate it :) And hopefully there won't be a 5 month break between this and the next chapter!

-Mr. Ree