In a crowded street, a doctor and a thief laughed at night; unfortunately, their laughter died as reality hit. Every tavern brimmed with celebrating patrons, a stark contrast to Kate's sinking feeling. "Maybe a delay?" Hazzle suggested, her voice barely audible over the music. "These crowds are relentless." Kate kicked a stone, her jaw clenched. "Fine," she grumbled. "Annoying they're celebrating my 'death' with such enthusiasm." Hazzle, sensing Kate's anger, offered a solution. "Skip taverns. Perhaps a more social setting? Your tolerance, well..."

Kate snorted. "Drunk Kate confesses everything to the nearest barkeep. Not ideal, considering one secret involves a certain orange fugitive." A ghost of a smile played on Hazzle's lips. "Indeed. So, social gatherings it is. Though, I'm unfamiliar with this town's nightlife."

A sly grin spread across Kate's face. "Leave it to me, Doc. You be the voice. Locals wouldn't exactly welcome my thief tones right now."

Hazzle, amusement flickering in her eyes, followed Kate deeper into the labyrinthine alleys. The flickering light cast distorted shadows, and a foul stench filled the air. Rounding a corner, they found a lone figure hunched over a barrel, a mug clutched in their hand. The man's face was obscured by darkness, but his seediness was unmistakable. Hazzle squeezed Kate's arm, a silent question. In a low voice, she assumed a casual tone, "Excuse me, sir. My friend and I are looking for a place with some life. Maybe somewhere to meet interesting folks."

The stranger cleared his throat, his voice a gravelly rasp. "What kind of interesting, friend?"

Another whisper from Kate, barely audible. Hazzle relayed the message, her voice lowered further. "The kind that wouldn't mind the company of... well, us."

The figure chuckled, a low, guttural sound that sent shivers down Hazzle's spine. He leaned closer, the lantern light briefly illuminating a face etched with scars and a predatory glint in his eyes.

"Ah," he rasped, his voice rough as sandpaper. "That kind of company, eh? Head straight down this alley, can't miss it. Big sign and all."

Hazzle, her unease growing, managed a curt, "Thank you," before ushering Kate away. As they scurried down the dark passage, Kate swore she heard a muttered phrase about "hoping something of yours will..." but the rest was lost.

Confused, Hazzle turned to Kate, her voice barely a whisper. "Miss Kate, what did he say?"

Kate shrugged, her face shadowed. "Nothing important, Doc. Just rambling."

Hazzle pressed, but Kate remained evasive. They reached the end of the alley, and a sight greeted them that made Hazzle's blood run cold. A ramshackle building loomed before them, a faded sign hanging crookedly: "Loner's Brothel."

The blood drained from Hazzle's face as the lettering came into focus. Nausea washed over her, a bitter tang of regret clinging to her tongue. The cobblestones seemed to tilt.

"Kate," she croaked, her voice barely a whisper. The festive chaos seemed miles away, replaced by suffocating silence.

Kate tilted her head in confusion. "What's wrong, Doc? Found the place already?"

Hazzle clenched her fists. "This... this is a brothel, Kate. You know, one of those... places." Shame burned in her cheeks, contrasting with the cold fear snaking down her spine. "Surely," she continued, her voice trembling, "drinking sounds far more appealing than... associating with these people."

The penny finally dropped for Kate. Her jaw slackened. "A brothel? Oh wait, I know what that is now."

"They... they rent companions, right?" Kate pressed, her voice a touch too eager. "Depressing, sure, but maybe we can find one that'll stick with us for a while? You know, someone discreet."

Hazzle's grip tightened on Kate's shoulder, her bewilderment morphing into horrified fascination. "How... how did you miss a brothel, Kate? I thought you knew every inch of this town's underbelly."

Kate winced. "Never actually seen one," she mumbled defensively. "Just heard it in... conversations. Before we met. Weeks ago."

Hazzle's eyebrows shot up. "Weeks ago? This place is new, Kate. And the entire town seems clueless about brothels? Are you telling me you haven't even seen one before?"

Kate met Hazzle's gaze, a sheepish grin tugging at her lips. "Pretty much, Doc," she admitted.

Hazzle drew a deep breath. "Alright, Kate," she began, her voice low and firm, "a brothel is... well, let's just say it's not about renting friends."

Kate's confusion was evident, with a flicker of recognition.

A blush scorched Kate's face. Shame prickled her skin. She'd smirked at Hazzle's sheltered ways, and here she was, the seasoned criminal exposed as clueless.

"Oh," Kate stammered, her voice a mere squeak. "Right. That's kind of dirty. I... uh... I guess I misunderstood what you meant by 'interesting folks.'"

A hint of amusement flickered across Hazzle's lips. "A rather... degenerate misunderstanding," she conceded, a wry smile pulling at her mouth. "But let's not dwell on it. This is not the establishment we're looking for."

Kate cleared her throat. "Right. The new plan, then. We find a decent tavern that caters to... less exciting crowds. You know, the kind with a clean back room, a sturdy lock, and preferably some decent ale."

Hazzle nodded. But as they turned back, a figure emerged from the brothel's entrance. Leaning against the wall, the woman from earlier was bathed in lamplight. Hazzle squinted. The woman's crimson hair cascaded down her back.

Her face held world-weariness, yet her eyes sparkled with defiance. Her dress, though once expensive, was now worn, hinting at a life lived on the fringes.

Hazzle halted Kate, placing a hand on her arm. Kate whirled around, confused.

"Miss Kate," Hazzle began, her heart pounding. A curious glint replaced the concern in her eyes, her gaze locked on the woman. "I know I explained the situation earlier... about that." She gestured at the brothel before returning to the stranger. "But indulge me. What if I met with some of the people here, without any... exchange?"

Kate's eyes widened as she stammered. "Haz, are you serious? Entering that... den of sin? You sound like some kind of..."

"Hypocrite?" Hazzle offered playfully. "No, Miss Kate. I'm simply curious. Is this place truly vile, or is there more to it? Perhaps there's someone who needs help, someone ostracized. Aren't we both, in a way?"

The last sentence hung in the air. Kate remained silent, the only sound the drunken revelry mingling with the stench of cheap ale and faded perfume.

"Haz," Kate finally spoke, her voice laced with concern. The playful mood had evaporated. "I know 'Doc' is slipping. This sudden change... it doesn't make sense. You said this place was vile, and now you want to waltz right in? I may have dragged you into this mess, but be straight with me. Why the change of heart?"

Hazzle longed to confess her true reason, a secret yearning. Was she truly different? An outsider yearning for connection? Yet, the words that brought her here echoed in her mind.

Taking a deep breath, Hazzle crafted a response, a mask of concern hiding a deeper truth. "Kate," she began, "you said I should experience life outside my books. Perhaps there's a story here, a hidden truth. Maybe there's someone who needs help. After all, aren't we both?"

Kate groaned, regret washing over her as she took in the brothel's exterior. "Fantastic," she muttered. "You had me at 'better version of yourself' and overcoming... something interesting." Her eyes darted to the ground.

"But there's a catch, isn't there?" Kate sighed. "This reformed girl playing dress-up as a dead robber isn't exactly a recipe for success. I can't be your bodyguard, Haz. We talked about this. With the festival, anyone spotting me is a death wish. Blending in with drunkards is safer. Though," she added with a humorless chuckle, "if you suddenly decide to... expand your horizons, your hypocrisy wouldn't be subtle."

Hazzle turned back, appreciation in her eyes. "Thanks for the heads-up, Miss Kate. Knowing you've got my back is a comfort." She started towards the brothel.

Kate watched her go, worry gnawing at her. She clutched the red bead, a silent plea escaping her lips. "Haz, even if I'm keeping an eye out, promise me you'll be quick. In and out, alright? This place... it can get its claws in you. Just find someone to talk to, a friend, someone who feels like friendship, not... well, you know." Her voice softened, the worry tinged with a maternal concern that surprised even her.

Hazzle nodded. "Understood. We'll be quick. Talk to an acquaintance, no funny business, and then we're outta here. Speed's key, considering your walking-dead target status." She winked playfully, a hint of vulnerability cracking her facade before she straightened, her professional demeanor returning.

With practiced ease, Hazzle entered the brothel, her posture commanding respect. Kate, meanwhile, slipped through a rickety back entrance, the rusty hinges groaning.

The dim light cast long shadows, obscuring the patrons' faces. The air hung heavy with cheap perfume, drunken laughter, and a raw energy that sent shivers down Kate's spine. This place was different, a twisted carnival of lust, unlike anything she'd experienced. It felt like a foreign world, a maze of shadowy corners and hidden desires.

Distracted by the atmosphere, Kate momentarily forgot about Hazzle. The festivities outside seemed miles away, replaced by this unsettling underbelly. Here, Hazzle's persona might not be enough. They were two lost souls in a den of vice, unknowingly separated by jaded women and desperate men. The brothel, far from the small place Kate expected, had become a labyrinth, a trap.

Hazzle, transformed into the charming Hydes, found herself adrift in a sea of unspoken desires clinging to the brothel's walls. The place vibrated with raw energy. It was a decadent forest, and amidst the throngs, a captivating bloom caught her eye.

Across the room, a woman stood out. Unlike the others who seemed comfortable, this stranger exuded quiet disgust for the men propositioning her co-workers. It sparked something within Hazzle, a connection she hadn't felt in a long time. Her heart hammered as she approached, the woman a beacon.

"She's exactly who I've been looking for," Hazzle thought, a nervous smile on her lips.

Meanwhile, Kate navigated the cacophony. Panic gnawed at her as she realized Hazzle was gone. Each face became a potential dead end, fueling her fear. Feeling lost, she cursed.

"This place is a nightmare!" she muttered. "Even a bar brawl would be a welcome change! We were supposed to be quick, but this feels like an eternity."

Trapped in a human cage, Kate and Hazzle were two souls clinging to sanity. Anger washed over Kate. "If I wasn't a branded criminal," she thought bitterly, "none of this would be happening. We'd be leading normal lives. This is all my fault!"

Grinding her teeth, she clamped a hand over her mouth. Letting her anger boil over could be fatal. Yet, she yearned to lash out. But reason prevailed.

"If I wasn't the town's castaway," she whispered, her voice trembling, "there wouldn't be a Hazzle to support me, no Roy. I'd be utterly alone in this..."

Taking a deep breath, Kate released her worries. A faint smile flickered across her lips. "I'm getting ahead of myself. I might have inherited some of Ms. Clover's traits," she chuckled bitterly. "Maybe, someday, things can be better for both of us," she murmured, hope replacing the panic.

The hope brought a bittersweet pang. Helping Hazzle might be a start, but it wouldn't erase the past. Still, maybe that's what her Papa would have wanted. Not a saint, but someone who at least tried to do some good, even in the shadows. With newfound resolve, Kate wiped away the last tear and scanned the room.

Before she could resume searching, a drunken voice slurred in her ear, "Hey there, doll. Fancy helping me steal a pouch of gold?"

Kate's heart lurched. How did this drunk already know her? Sweat beaded on her forehead, her pulse hammering.

Across the room, Hazzle finally spoke to the stranger. "So..." she began, her voice barely a whisper. Her persona faltered, replaced by nervous whimpers.

The stranger, unlike the others, wasn't jaded. A rough yet seductive voice cut through the air. "What's your name, pretty boy?"

Hazzle's heart shot into overdrive. Her hands and eyes twitched, her face burning. "Hydes," she stammered, her persona crumbling. Words abandoned her, replaced by gibberish. The room spun, the stranger becoming a masterpiece in her vision. Her pupils dilated, a metallic tang filled her nose. Panic threatened, but defiance ignited. This was her chance.

With a shaky breath, Hazzle wiped the blood from her nose. "Dr. Hydes," she corrected, her voice deeper. The world steadied, her mask clicking back into place. "Apologies for the outburst. I have a... condition. What's your name... uh..." Hazzle stumbled.

"Name's..." the stranger replied, a smirk on their lips. "You seem... unfamiliar with casual conversation, Doctor."

Hazzle scratched her neck, blushing. "Oh, it's not that I haven't... socialized," she stammered.

The stranger cut her off playfully. "Well, doctor, it seems I've contracted loneliness. Think you can prescribe a cure?"

Hazzle's mind went blank. Her heart pounded. Her crush desired her company. This was it, the chance for romance. Confidence washed over her, replacing fear with excitement.

"I believe I have just the remedy," Hazzle purred, gesturing for the stranger to sit, her mind swirling with plans, blinded by desire.

Lost in conversation, fueled by drinks and confidence, Hazzle momentarily forgot about Kate. Meanwhile, Kate remained frozen, reeling from the drunken stranger.

"How do you know me?" she finally asked.

The drunk man's response was slurred and nonsensical. "Hey there, doll. Fancy helping me steal a pouch of gold?"

Kate stared, unsure if it was a threat or a joke. Her confusion deepened as he grabbed her arm, shouting, "Hey! This doll wants to be the thief!"

Patrons gathered, their faces menacing. The air crackled. Kate knew she had two options: fight or become another victim.

Kate landed the first blow. The fight was a flailing contest, the attackers more interested in noise. Across the room, Hazzle lay her head on the stranger's lap, blushing. The world was muffled for Hazzle, the drinks taking their toll.

"So, Doctor," the stranger slurred. "Quite impressive. What made a lonely soul like me worth ten shots?" Her glinting eyes and seductive tone were new to Hazzle.

Hazzle's face was pink, desire overriding thought. "Well, my patient," she began, carefully avoiding sounding like a stalker, "it's just... I saw you, and your pose... it was so magnificent, a jolt I needed... for so long! And you being close feels unreal. You dislike these degenerate men, these... clients. You look like a goddess this morning..." Her inexperience showed, her confidence crumbling. Regret washed over her.

The sound of a scuffle reached her, and she turned to check if it was Kate. The stranger grabbed her jaw, forcing her head back. "Doctor, what about our 'operation'?" the stranger purred. "Chickening out makes you... cute. Now, explain about this morning..."

Hazzle flinched. Somehow, she regained her confidence. "Jackpot," she declared. Blinded by desire, the world shifted, awash with color.

Across the room, Kate battled her attackers. Her hood barely contained her hair. Her punches slowed as the men cowered. Onlookers seemed concerned. She heard cheers amidst the gasps.

Heavy breaths escaped Kate's lips. "What the ever-loving..." she muttered, exhaustion settling in. Sweat trickled down her face. Her adrenaline halted at a single word.

"Stop!" a booming voice cut through the crowd. A stranger approached, angry. "Those are my friends! They wouldn't hurt a fly!" He pushed through the crowd.

"The hell did you do?" he bellowed at Kate. "They just asked me to check a costume, and now they look like casualties! You..."

Kate flinched as he reached for her hood, then stopped, sighing. "On second thought," he said, "maybe you misunderstood. That's just their drunken actions. Sorry about losing my cool. Nice costume, by the way."

The stranger roused his friends, who, sobered, shuffled out, leaving a stunned Kate and a confused crowd.

"Friends?" Kate thought, confusion clouding her mind. "Oh right, Haz. I told her sheltered self to come back..." Her eyes widened in horror. Hazzle hadn't returned. No response to her calls, just stunned patrons and a brawl that could have exposed her new life. Panic surged through Kate, and she bolted. The world blurred as patrons resumed their business, towering over her like trees in a dark forest. She was lost, searching for a light, hoping Hazzle would appear.

Her frantic search ended with a laugh that sounded suspiciously like Hazzle. Relief ignited in her chest. "Well, then," Kate muttered, a weight lifting from her shoulders. "She isn't buried like my siblings, so we're in the clear."

Now came the real challenge—finding Hazzle. The crowd blurred, but then Hazzle's voice cut through the noise, a beacon. And the woman Hazzle was with? Who was she?

A realization dawned. Hazzle had come because of this redheaded woman. Her eyes widened. "Haz likes women? Oh my," Kate thought. "I heard this is a crime, but the more I see it, it's just romance. I don't see why this whole same-gender thing is applied. If I was the type to hate, it would have been much earlier." With newfound determination, Kate approached Hazzle.

"Hey, Doc," she called out, her voice raspy. Hazzle, startled, stammered, "Oh... excuse me for a second, my crimson darling." Her attempt at a masculine voice cracked.

"No worries," the stranger replied with a playful laugh, which Hazzle awkwardly echoed. Hazzle led them to a quiet corner, whispering, "Kate, why are you here? I thought you'd be watching from the shadows, not... in front of a friend."

The cover-up didn't fool Kate. "Haz, just drop the act," she said. "I know why you're here."

Hazzle's eyes widened in fear. "You want to... taste the forbidden fruit, right? Lick the 'peach'?" Kate asked, her voice a mix of seriousness and humor. Hazzle trembled. "Y... Yes," she stammered, covering her face.

Instead of disapproval, Kate laughed cheerfully. "Good for you!" she exclaimed.

Hazzle peeked through her fingers, bewildered. "What?" she asked, her voice a rusty whisper, a mix of confusion, fear, and relief.

Leaning in, Kate whispered, "Haz, I just wanted to congratulate you. People judge you and others like you, scared of anything different. But you're breaking free. You are who you are, and that's okay. Be a better version of yourself."

Hazzle was speechless, frozen in relief and acceptance. Tears welled up in her eyes. "Oh, Kate..." she choked out. "You are the best... a great friend. I thought you'd report me for..."

Kate patted Hazzle's back. "No worries," she said. "Now, Haz, we were going to leave, redhead and all. But seeing this..." Kate paused, smiling faintly. "I guess I can wait a little longer."

Kate offered her arm, and they walked back. Hazzle, her voice deeper, sat down, ready for the best night of her life. "So, darling," she said with a practiced smile, "sorry for the delay. I was just discussing the poor guy's injuries."

Kate had forgotten one detail. "Good luck, Haz, with the... uh... same-gender..." Kate stammered, realizing something.

Hazzle's smile melted into fear. Kate felt a bead of sweat. The patrons fell silent, their attention drawn to them. All eyes were on Kate and Hazzle, the redhead staring at Hazzle intensely. The atmosphere vanished, replaced by silence.

Hazzle turned to Kate, trembling. No words were spoken, but fear hung heavy. Then, a booming voice shattered the peace: "IS THAT WOMAN PRETENDING TO BE A DOCTOR COMMITTING SODOMY?!"

TO BE CONTINUE