The Fine Print

[madimpossibledreamer]

Guess who's showing up in a few chapters...
Also, for a longer elaboration on the 'slur' point, see A Bloody Tradition.

Main Points:
Buffy/Devil May Cry
Chapter Summary: Alisha and Xander learn what they missed.
Word Count: 1371
Rating: Teen
Warning: Very quick references to abuse and Xander's PTSD from Last Man's Dead.  Xander continues to use a slur with regards to his own heritage, and Alisha rightfully calls him out on it.

         He still feels just a touch off balance, but he’s glad if anyone had to notice, it’s Alisha.  He likes her approach, and if anyone has to see him as a raw, exposed nerve, at least she didn’t treat him like some weird abomination.
         She joins him within reach and he leans over to rub his elbow playfully with hers.  She startles a little, then grins.
         And just like that, their mood is gone, ‘cause now that they’re paying attention, Jane is crying and the other officer, Hiedler was it?, is covering her hand.
         “It’ll be fine, Mommy.  We’ve got the Mister and the Police,” Ari tries to reassure her.
         “I won’t miss much?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at Alisha, who winces.
         “I honestly thought they were just talking about the civilian stuff.  You know, the kind of stuff that wouldn’t change how you do your job.”  She shrugs, but she still sounds just as off guard as he is.
         “Well, I do change my approach a little, but I get your line of thinking.”  He falls silent again.
         “There’s every likelihood it won’t go far.  We will, of course, treat this more seriously than your average domestic violence case, but our experience in both areas will be of use.  You have evidence of abuse, which is incredibly useful in this kind of situation.  Judge Torres has zero tolerance for abuse.”  At least Hiedler sounds competent.
         “Judge.  The guy was a lawyer,” he puts together.
         “That’s diabolically intelligent,” Alisha agrees.  “He’s probably suing for sole custody of their daughter.  The case will probably fall through, but I don’t know how it will go if Jane falls back into indoctrination at the wrong time—”  She pauses at the crack of wood loud enough to be heard in the next room, the others sitting there startling and glancing at the glass, as Xander’s hands have turned claw-like and he’s put them through part of the work desk.
         “Consider the table flipped,” he mutters tersely.  “This guy isn’t getting his grubby hands on the little lioness.”  He takes a deep breath to calm himself, hands going back to their original state.  “I’ve got an idea on that front, but I don’t know if it’ll work.”
         “You can’t just stab him.  There are laws about murder, and he exists as a human, supposedly.”  Good influence, or bad influence?  He leaves that to the jury.
         “He can’t go for the kill himself, can he?”  Because that might throw a monster-sized wrench in his plan.
         “He’s a prosecutor, not a civil lawyer.  I suspect otherwise, he would represent himself, but he no doubt has a network from his years of work—perhaps even one in his cult.”  Of course it couldn’t be that easy.  It’s never that easy.  Well—no, okay, not never—there was the dog case, and there was the case where the guy was sure it was ghosts and it turned out, so cliché, to just be a settling house, like all those debunking shows, like the Specter Skeptics—but enough that he doesn’t count on it, ever.
         “Okay.  I don’t know a lot about regular old human cults.”  They’ve started talking about deprogramming, which while important has absolutely no relevance to his work.  They just happened to be having their important talk at the same time as the relevant stuff was happening in the other room.  So yeah, okay, maybe he might agree with Gabriel on his sense of timing.  “I mean, I saw some stuff on TV.”
         “Most cults use psychology to control their members, until they can’t think for themselves and are reliant on the cult for any social interaction.”  And there she goes; he can see the moment she gets it.  “But that’s probably not required in this case, since demons or monsters of some kind were involved.”
         “Not all of them, I suspect, but enough of them.  Definitely the ones that attacked the Gold Rush and wandering around on the streets.”  He turns around, facing her completely, leaning against the desk, and this time the pose isn’t for show.  He really is making himself feel comfortable.
         “Why…”  He inclines his head back toward the window behind him, and she follows his logic there, too.  “Jane.  They could’ve just not gotten around to it yet?”  She’s tentative toward the end, so even she thinks that’s a little weak.
         His foot starts tapping.  He wants to start to pace, but he’s already made enough of a spectacle of himself for today.  Probably.  “Then why go to the trouble of traditional brainwashing?  If they’d planned on making all the Sons and Daughters demons in the first place, why not just do it as quickly as they possibly can to keep up their control freak secrecy shtick?”
         “Where are you going with this?”  She gets it.  She just doesn’t like it.  He’s not fond of the implications himself, but he’s not sure.
         “They had a reason to keep pureblood humans, never mind the trouble.  What that would be, I’m not sure.  There’s a lot of mumbo jumbo about the power of souls, and some of the demons I’ve met sure wanted a nibble of mine.  If soul magic exists, it’d be powerful enough to break ancient seals shutting something away, giving this lawyer guy too much power, or…I dunno, causing an apocalypse.  On the other hand, human sacrifice was happily practiced by pureblood humans through the ages.  I can see demons wanting to get in on the action.”  He winces, because they’re both going to like where he’s going with this next even less.  “And they definitely want the kid.”
         She definitely doesn’t like that one.  “More than any other humans in their cult?”
         “Jane’s an ego thing.  His wife, his property.  But think about it—both mom and daughter felt like she was a target.  Could be a sexual thing, but even if it’s not, she’s not safe.”  She reflexively checks his face, his body language, but he’s feeling so much better, really.  “Do we have someone on our side?”
         “I don’t know that we can use your new friends,” she tells him, and he outright laughs, giddy at the thought, because they don’t know what they’re messing with.
         “I’m asking about lawyers.  Do we have a defense attorney?”  She’s staring at him blankly.
         “I was guessing the court would appoint someone.  She doesn’t have the money to cover expenses,” Alisha states slowly, watching him carefully.
         He’s tempted to rub his hands in glee.  He loves it when a plan comes together.  “I know someone who would probably do this pro bono, though we could definitely look at having my new friends pay for it.  It’s not a guarantee; none of this is.  But we’ve got a shot, and I’m going to go for it.”
         “You know a lawyer.”  She pauses, then shakes her head.  “Should I really be shocked by anything at this point?”
         “Probably not.”  He’s already bouncing on his feet, ready to get going.  He sheathes the sword at his back, a practiced, easy move.
         “Xander?”  He pauses, glancing back at her from the doorway.  “Don’t use the word ‘pureblood’ again.  You’re not impure.”
         That actually gets him to pause, absolutely nothing to say, as he turns that over before grinning.  There probably are those who would argue that the presence of demon blood would count as impure, but…  “Well, I’m not about to refer to myself as a mule or anything.”  Because that’s the only so-called ‘real world’ example he can think of, and also because it’s funny.
         She rolls her eyes and joins him as they go to join the rest in the next room, and he walks in with a sunny smile.  “We’ve got your back, kiddo,” he promises, even as she stands up on her mommy’s lap and flings herself at him so he can either catch her or let her fall.  He catches her, of course; he’s only half-devil.