Chapter Twenty-Four: author's note - Hello, everyone. I'm so glad you're reading this! Please remember to vote and comment if you liked it, you've got no idea how much it means to me! I'd love to know what you think of the story, which characters you like, which ones you hate!

Nightingale couldn't bear to listen to the evidence being presented. So she sat in the corner and recited aloud from Macbeth, her lips moving swiftly and smoothly as the verse cam easily to her, shutting out all other noise and distracting her. As her feet bounced under her, her anxiousness sharper and more concentrated than it had ever been, she tried to soothe her with the lyrical verse.

Soon, she was faraway from the Council chamber, far away from David and his team, far away even from her slavery.

"Excuse me?" spoke up a tentative little voice.

It broke her concentration. Her eyes opened and she glared at the person who had interrupted her.

"Yes?" she said snappishly.

It was a young woman, of reasonable attractiveness. She was evidently a guard, based on her simple, navy blue uniform and the weapon at her hip.

"You're Nightingale, right?" she enquired, her voice weak.

Nightingale nodded. "I am."

"You're an Inamorata," the woman said.

"Surprised?" snarled Nightingale. "Surprised to see I'm so human? Surprised?"

"A little bit," admitted the woman, flinching back from Nightingale's expression and her hostility. "But what I really wanted to say is that I'm sorry."

Now it was Nightingale's turn to flinch back. She jerked back in shock before arranging her features into a haughty glower. "Sorry for what?" she snapped.

"Sorry that you're an Inamorata. I just heard what they do to you. I'm so sorry, Miss Nightingale. I...I never cared until now," said the woman. Then, staring down at her feet, her mouth quirked into an awkward and bashful expression, she moved to back away.

"Thank you," said Nightingale. "While you being sorry doesn't help my condition in the slightest, I still appreciate the sentiment."

 The guard backed away, evidently unsure of whether to smile or be offended by Nightingale's words. Luckily for Nightingale, however, she was spared any sort of conversation with the woman as the door opened on her side of the partition.

In filed the team - including Steel, whom Nightingale eyed very carefully - and David. Immediately she sprang up and went over to David. Her heart fluttered anxiously at the fact that not one of them, not even Clarence, who should have by that time sent at least one smouldering glance her way, was smiling. They all looked ill at ease, even Caroline.

"Well, Detective Beckett?" she asked. "What's happened?"

"Nothing, yet," he said tersely, eyes flashing. "The Council has withdrawn to make its decision."

"Its decision?" she whispered. "After only that little bit of testifying?"

Nicholas snorted derisively. "That 'little bit', as you say, Nightingale, is only a small part of the evidence we've presented. They have far more at their disposal than what we showed them today."

Nightingale glowered a little at Nicholas, not liking being taken for a fool. Her annoyance was ignored, however, as everyone else in the room ignored her, all seeming to retreat into their own uneasiness.

All but Steel, that was. Nightingale caught his eyes on her more than once, but she was used to that and so took absolutely no notice. The only man who never openly stared was David - but he was a special case.

Seeing that everyone else was occupied, Nicholas, Pierce, and Clarence all murmuring about something in one corner, and Caroline glued to David's side in the other, Nightingale went over to him.

"Your staring is mystifying me," she told him.

"Oh? How so, Miss Nightingale?" he asked.

She smiled. "You've got nothing better to do - say, for example, fret like everyone else is doing - than to stare at me?" she asked.

He smiled. "There's no point in worrying the way they are," he said, crossing his arms and jerking his chin to gesture to where Caroline, stuck to David's side as if attached there, was evidently fretting as much as her cool countenance would allow, and where Clarence, Nicholas, and Pierce were standing in a tight circle, scratching their heads, murmuring, and generally looking anxious. "It will do absolutely no good."

Even Clarence, who was usually as cool as ice, was bouncing from foot to foot.

"It's our fate they're deciding in there," Nightingale agreed, waving to the Council chamber. "And yet it's these free people who are anxious while we are perfectly calm."

"Precisely," said Steel, his blue eyes glinting. "Not to mention that I'm staring because you are, quite simply, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

His tone was not complimentary, nor was it even particularly admiring. From Steel, a commendation of her beauty appeared to be merely an observation.

Nightingale smiled a little sadly. It was just as she had once explained to Michael, in a time that seemed so far away. That, to her, her beauty was not something that ought to be commended - rather, it was something she'd simply been created with.

"I could easily say the same of you," she said, gesturing to his slim, lean figure.

Now he smiled equally sadly. "And look at us both," he said quietly. When he looked down at her, she could see all the slave's pain in his eyes. However, she was prevented from staring into his lovely eyes as the door leading out into the hallway banged open.

Everyone turned around to see Robin striding into the room, his hair wild, his eyes sparkling, and a mad grin plastered to his face.

"Nightingale! Where is she, my darling, brilliant Nightingale?" he cried.

"He's insane," said Steel, nudging Nightingale's arm.

"I like him," she snapped defensively, though she had to agree to some extent. While Robin was not insane in her book, he was certainly a tad eccentric.

Steel smiled apologetically at her hostile glare. "I'm not saying I don't like him. I'm just saying he's utterly mad."

Nightingale was prevented from saying anything else as Robin swept her up into his gangly arms and gave her a bone-crushing hug.

"You brilliant, brilliant girl," he whispered in her ear. "That speech of yours was amazing. If that didn't show them some humanity, I don't know what would."

Nightingale grinned at him and kissed his cheek when she drew back. "Thank you, Robin."

He blushed. "It's the truth."

"And that makes it all the more wonderful, don't you think?" she purred, patting his cheek with her hand.

It earned her a massive grin from him.

"Robin, why the hell are you so cheerful?" snapped Caroline. Nightingale wondered acidly if it was an enormous effort on the woman's part to draw her attention away from David for even the shortest second.

"You do know we haven't won the case yet, right?" asked Clarence, a hint of a teasing smile warring with anxiousness on his face.

Robin waved his hand airily. "Oh, I don't care about that right now!" he cried. "All I care about is how brilliant Nightingale was!"

Steel and Nightingale exchanged a conspiring glance.

Meanwhile, Robin had clasped Nightingale's hand in both of his and was looking at her longingly, an impish grin on his face. "Nightingale, I adore you. Will you marry me, you amazing creature?"

Nightingale heard not one but several men give astounded, deriding snorts of laughter. She fixed her eyes on Clarence and David, who had come to stand next to one another and were rolling their eyes in perfect unison at Robin's mischievous proposal. While they scoffed, she glared.

Then she turned to Robin and smiled sadly at him. "You can't marry an Inamorata, Robin. Remember, I'm not a person. You can't marry me because you can't marry a chair or a sock, either."

 He sighed melodramatically and stood up. "Very well, Miss Nightingale. I see how it is."

Nightingale laughed at Robin's well-mimed expression of a broken heart as he held a hand to his chest and then ambled over to where David was eyeing him.

She was not alone for long, as Clarence disentangled himself from his discussion with David - apparently not eager to speak with Robin - and joined her.

"Nervous, Miss Nightingale?" he asked.

Nightingale raised her eyebrows. "Not as nervous as you, Dr. Marshal."

Clarence smiled down at her. "I never got a chance to apologize for telling David what we...what you attempted to do," he said, though he did not look very contrite. Despite the lines of worry creasing his handsome face, his eyes sparkled with flirtatiousness.

"I suppose it was your duty," she said, and shrugged.

"It was not. I was under no obligation to tell him," he contradicted.

Nightingale's familiar anger was back as she snapped, "What? Why the fuck did you share that, Clarence, if you didn't have to?"

Clarence smiled, though this time his charm had absolutely no effect upon her. She was too riled.

"I've always been curious about David," he said, staring off into space musingly. "I've never seen anything from him other than cold reserve. And so, when I saw how strange he behaves whenever you are in the room, I was curious to see how he'd react when I told him you'd tried to seduce me."

"You bastard," hissed Nightingale, her tone seething. "I humiliated myself that night, and you decided to make sure everyone knew about it just to satisfy your curiosity?"

"I did," he admitted. "And I'm sorry, Nightingale."

She did not even grace him with a glare.

"Nightingale," he said, and his voice was at its most appealing, a masculine growl with a musical lilt. "Nightingale, I'm sorry. Please forgive me."

His hand was suddenly on her arm, causing warmth to blossom where the heat of his palm contacted her bare skin. Along with the touch came cloying desire, a not-so-gentle reminder of how much Nightingale wanted him.

"Nightingale," he said, repeating her name yet again. "I need to know if what happened that night will happen again."

She wrenched her arm out of his grasp, hating her weakness for his charm. "What, want to know if I'll fuck you again?" she snarled.

He said nothing, but the hurt look in his eyes nearly swayed her. The only thing that prevented her from forgiving him was the very fact that she despised that she even wanted to forgive that man his offense based only on the magnetism of his looks.

But before they could say anything else to one another, the door opened and every head turned.

Two Councillors strode in - Councillors Renley and Kirkland. Only then could Nightingale see exactly how tiny Councillor Kirkland was. At no more than five foot two, she would not have even cleared Clarence's shoulder. Yet there was more authority in that woman than Clarence could ever have hoped to possess.

Every fibre of Councillor Kirkland's being seemed to radiate power, so much that, when she walked up to David and he inclined his head, Nightingale was astounded to see his commanding personality subdued to hers.

"The Council has made its decision," said Councillor Renley. Councillor Kirkland said nothing.

Even the room itself seemed to draw in a nervous breath. Nightingale was panicked all of a sudden. Terrified. Bone-chillingly afraid. She'd had such freedom since she'd met David. And in one sentence from Councillor Renley could undo that. With just one sentence from him, he could send her back to the bordello, to be beaten and raped and imprisoned with the rest of her sisters.

Just when fear threatened to crush her, fear that she had not had since her first clients, someone took her hand.

She looked down to see a man's fingers winding between hers until their hands were intertwined. Then, raising her eyes, she saw Steel looking at her. He wasn't smiling and his eyes were wide with sadness.

But it was enough to remind her that she was not alone. So, together, they turned their faces back to the Councillors.

"And? What decision is that?" asked David, his voice perfectly composed. The only thing that gave away his anxiousness was a tiny twitch of his hand towards his hip, as if towards a gun.

Councillor Renley did not reply to him. Instead, he approached Steel and Nightingale. Reaching up - for he was shorter than the pair of them - he clasped their faces, each in one hand.

"Mr. Steel and Miss Nightingale," he said, the tiny smile that had been his eyes exploding into a warm, happy grin as he went on. "It is my utter pleasure today to announce that the law has passed. As of one week from now, the bordello business will be illegal, and all Inamoratas and Inamoratos will be free people."

Nightingale stood tall though she wanted to sink to her knees as cheers filled the room. Steel, however, was not so strong as her, and he slowly slipped into the chair next to them, looking spent and astounded.

"Thank you, Councillors," said Nightingale, not sure whether she could even smile, so overwhelmed with shock was she.

Councillor Renley gave her a smile and the kind of wink Nightingale knew from her reading that affectionate fathers gave their beloved daughters. Councillor Kirkland did not smile, but simply nodded.

"It was our duty to humanity," she said simply.

With that, they withdrew, though the team fell upon them to shake their hands, thank them, commend them for their kindness.

The moment they were gone, the room exploded with noise. Nicholas drew himself up to his full height and hollered every swear word Nightingale knew in a joyous, Neanderthal kind of pride before chest-bumping Pierce in a childishly endearing sort of way.

Clarence and Robin hugged, slapping each other's backs in a strange display of masculinity, while Clarence drew Caroline to his side and kissed her cheek. Miraculously, the woman was smiling, even tossing Nightingale a grin.

Steel looked up at Nightingale and smiled, though his eyes were full of tears. "Congratulations on being a human, Miss Nightingale," he said.

She smiled down at him, patting his face. "Congratulations to you, too, Mr. Steel," she whispered, and stroked his hair.

Suddenly, like the sun bursting over the horizon - which Nightingale had only recently seen, never having seen the dawn in the deep, dark hole of the bordello - Steel smiled and sprang to his feet. Quickly, they were pulled into the rejoicing throng.

In celebration, Nightingale kissed everyone. Everyone, that was, but David. She pecked the cheeks of Nicholas and Pierce, she bestowed a passionate kiss to Clarence's full lips, showered Robin with her kisses, was even bold enough to kiss Caroline's forehead and Steel's smiling mouth.

But she did not kiss David. He simply stood there, while Nicholas slapped him on the back, Robin dithered at him enthusiastically, and Pierce wrung his hand in congratulations. He did not move, did not shout. He simply stood, a strange mix of elation, triumph, and sorrow upon his face.

While everyone else crowed with victory, he only stood there, staring at Nightingale like he wanted to devour her with his eyes.

So, when the noise in the room had subsided to a happy chatter though David stood apart, Nightingale detached herself from the group and approached him.

"Congratulations on winning the case, Detective Beckett," she said, with an impish smile and a daring fip of her hair.

He only inclined his head coolly. "Congratulations on your personhood, Nightingale."

Nightingale simpered a little.

David eyed her a little disdainfully. "What, not going to kiss me?" he sneered.

"No, Detective Beckett," she retorted.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Nightingale. Call me David," he sighed.

"Don't think that will make me kiss you," she said. Her voice was somewhere in between teasing and threatening and it made David smile. It was an affectionate, tired smile.

"What if I asked politely?" he enquired, and his coolness receded, leaving, in its place, shocking warmth.

"Ask, then," she said. She was enjoying that too much, the idea of David asking her for something.

"Nightingale, will you kiss me?" he asked. His tone was as pleading as his hazel eyes, which were wide and begging.

"Gladly," she replied, and kissed his cheek. It was short and soft but very, very sweet.

It was a few minutes later that Robin, calling for silence, stood up on the chair - probably an unnecessary pomposity, considering that the crowd he was addressing was fairly small - and declared:

"That's it. We're all going back to my home. We're going to celebrate, damn it."

The loudest shout was from Nicholas. Nightingale was not surprised. He seemed the type to enjoy drinking. Whoring, too, Nightingale was sure he'd be the kind who went to bordellos had she not been so sure his morality would never allow such a thing.

And so that's what they did. They all left the Council building and, acting in a manner similar to how her conditioning told her foolish young humans behaved, made their way to Robin's home.

There was no time for silence on the way there, nor was there time for silence when they arrived. Even Steel and Nightingale, who had been reserved before, were laughing and chattering at full volume. Everyone was talking a mile a minute and, once alcohol had been served, the rapidity and looseness of their conversation increased.

And that was when Nightingale noticed David's absence.

So she asked Robin, while he was in the middle of his third flute of champagne, where David had gone.

Robin had replied with a smirk. "Gone home, apparently," he said. "He told me he wanted to reflect in peace an quiet. Also that I'm to have you back to his place by seven in the morning tomorrow, to return you."

Nightingale nodded, though she was a little confused by Robin's smug grin. However, there was little time to dwell on it, as she quickly rejoined the conversation.

Alcohol was consumed, even Caroline laughed and smiled, and the presentation of evidence was described and described and described over and over again. It was the only subject of conversation, and the subject of many toasts.

It was not long before Nicholas and Pierce were roaring loudly and slightly drunkenly with Clarence watching them somewhat disparagingly, Caroline and Robin were deeply engrossed in conversation, and Steel was sitting by himself.

So Nightingale went up to him. Noticing there was no drink in his hand, she pointed as she wound herself down sinuously next to him.

"Not drinking?" she asked.

"No," he said. "I've seen what it does to my clients. I...dislike the effects of alcohol."

"I can't disagree with that," said Nightingale, holding out her palms to show that she was joining him in his abstinence. 

Together, they sat there in silence before Nightingale said:

"Steel?"

He looked at her. "Yes?"

"Do you think they understand?" she asked, looking back over her shoulder to where the rest of the group was chattering merrily.

Steel sighed, evidently understanding what she meant. "I don't know."

"Do you think they understand what this decision is like for us?" she mused. "They're free. They can celebrate and be carefree, but it's because their world hasn't changed."

Steel laughed softly. "I can't imagine they understand. For them, they're simply happy they've won, simply happy that they've brought a little more justice to this planet. There's nothing more to it than that. But for us..."

"For us, we can't be like that," Nightingale continued in a murmur. "Because, for us, this is the upheaval of everything we've ever known. Good or bad, the world we know will vanish and we will be left stranded in the new one the government will make for us."

Steel nodded at her words, a sleepy, pensive jerk of his head.

"And as happy as we are for our freedom, we don't know what this world is like, or how to live in it. It's new. And I'm sure it will be frightening. We are young in the ways of the world, Steel," she said. Her voice was sadder than she'd expected it to be.

However, she elicited a small chuckle from Steel. "How poetic of you," she said.

She smiled ruefully. "I can't take all the credit. I found it in a novel. Pride and Prejudice."

Steel smiled and nodded.

After a little while longer, the party began to break up. Nicholas and Pierce left first, quickly followed by Clarence and then, some time later Caroline and Steel.

"Find me when you are free, Nightingale," he said, and would not leave until she vowed to do so.

That left her alone with Robin. She smiled as she saw him throw himself down on a sofa, sprawling across the piece of furniture in a tangled heap of arms and legs.

"This is my day of triumph, Nightingale," he declared, smiling.

"I know it is. And it would not have happened without you," she said, perching on a seat across from him.

Robin now grinned lopsidedly. "I can't wait until we put that beastly owner of yours in prison," he said.

Nightingale sighed as she considered the idea. Bobby in prison, Bobby bound with an anklet like hers, Bobby living at the mercy of others. A vicious smile curved over her face as she considered it.

They sat in silence for a moment before Robin sighed.

"You were brilliant today, Nightingale. Truly brilliant."

"I know." The words were said without a hint of modesty.

There was another long pause, during which time neither one of them said a word, both basking in the other's company.

Then, suddenly, an idea came into Nightingale's head, one that she had put aside since Clarence's rejection, suddenly reasserted herself in her mind and flatly refused to go away when she tried to remove it from her thoughts.

So she stood, putting her hands on her hips and tossing her hair. This must have made Robin uncomfortable, for he immediately jumped up.

"Something to drink?" he asked quickly. Then he turned his back under the pretense of searching for something for Nightingale to drink. As he did, Nightingale admired with sweet affection the curve of his body, hidden beneath a tweed suit that was a little too big for him.

Acting on impulse, she stepped forward and touched his back. He stood up poker-straight immediately. She didn't even think he was breathing, frozen in stony silence.

She slipped her hand under his jacket until her hand rested against his back. She was able to feel his bumpy vertebrae sticking up through his shirt.

"Nightingale, what are you doing?" he asked. For once, there was no playfulness in his voice.

"You made me a promise, Mr. Brightley," she told him.

"Which one?" he asked. This time, he aimed for light humour, but it flopped.

"You promised me this when I was free," she said, and stretched to embrace him, so that her arms were wrapped around his chest, hugging him tightly.

"I did," he admitted, turning his face so that he could look into her eyes with one of his. "But only if you want to. I would never take advantage of you like your clients do."

"I know you never would," she said. She kissed his cheek, but it was not innocent the way it had been before Steel and the team. "You love me too much."

Robin laughed softly. "That I do," he said. There was so much self-mockery in his voice that it made Nightingale's stomach positively hurt. "Now, Nightingale, is this what you want?"

Nightingale took a deep breath. "Yes," she said eventually.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

This time she answered without missing a beat. "Yes."

That seemed to be all the response Robin needed, for he gently removed her arms from around him. They did not stay parted very long, for he brought his face to hers and kissed her gently.

This time, it was not just warmth Nightingale felt, but also desire. Though Robin was not as handsome as Clarence had been, she felt the same pull towards him. So her kisses were a bit rougher than his as she grasped his face in her hands.

He pulled away for a moment. Taking this as a cue, Nightingale stepped back and in one fluid movement pulled her dress over her head.

"What are you doing?" whispered Robin, though he was transfixed by her figure.

"Forgive me if I am making you uncomfortable," she laughed. "But this is rather better done naked."

With no further ado, she removed her panties and her bra till she was left standing there, naked as the day she'd been extracted. No - naked as the day she was born. For if she was a person, her extraction had been no different than any other human's birth.

Robin was left staring with so much admiration that it made her laugh again. "Well, go on," she said, gesturing that he should strip, too.

He smiled awkwardly. As always, his voice was riddled with self-mockery. But this time, Nightingale could feel his embarrassment. "Promise me you won't laugh," he said. "I'm not as beautiful as you are."

Nightingale nodded, her playful humour gone. Instead, she devoured Robin with her eyes as he took off his jacket. Blushing madly, he undid his belt (fumbling with the buckle three times) before his pants fell to the floor. Soon his shirt was unbuttoned, too, and cast aside.

With Robin only in his underwear, Nightingale could see just how scrawny he was. His shoulders were broad but his chest was narrow, and she could see his ribs sticking up in places.

"You're beautiful," she breathed, and she meant it.

He smiled scornfully. "Don't make fun of me."

She sprang forward and kissed him. "I'm not," she said, and slipped off the rest of his clothes.