The Devil You Know

[madimpossibledreamer]

I've been looking forward to posting this chapter.

Main Points:
Buffy/Devil May Cry
Chapter Summary: Xander calls his contact.
Word Count: 925
Rating: Teen

          If that ringing doesn’t stop, he’s going to have to represent himself for homicide.  Except—wait, no, that would require actually picking up the phone to figure out who’s on the other end, even if he has a pretty good idea anyway.  Groggily, he reaches out for the phone.
          “Morning, sunshine.”  Of course.  The half-devil pain in the ass.  Who else would it be?
          “I’m hanging up,” he warns, and actually gets the phone close to the receiver before he hears the half-devil roar, “It’s your kind of case!”
          Lindsey sits up, cursing everything as he does so—the devil he knows, his former employers, the youngest of six for getting sick and dying in the first place, broken contracts, his sense of curiosity that won’t let him leave it alone which he would if he had any goddamn sense, and finally to round it out the self of the night before, who’d thought attempting to finish that bottle of whiskey was a good idea.  It’s fortunate he’d apparently fallen asleep before he’d finished it, or he wouldn’t even be in a state to have this conversation.
          In this hellhole of a town (sometimes he has more charitable things to think about his current port of call but that’s certainly not right now), there’s no one who exemplifies temptation better than Xander, and Lindsey’s called full-blooded demons colleagues, once upon a time.  He’s not sure how Xander learned of his fate, about his desire to become one of the ones with the power, rather than one of the ones without, of the contract that listed as one of its clauses the curing of little Betsy and signing away his soul as another, how they’d killed her when he’d lost a high profile case and taken Betsy’s soul in revenge, which broke the contract, of the fact that he was now wallowing in self-pity and his own impotence—because when it mattered, he was powerless.  The only thing he had going for him is that he’d squirreled away a little insurance.  Blackmail material, and a new understanding hashed out behind closed doors, not in the courtroom—that he didn’t release the documents he had, and they didn’t kill him.  The fact of the matter is, a half-devil appears out of nowhere, knowing his whole story, and offering him something he greatly desired, the chance to stick it to his former workplace.  A client in trouble, a company represented by Wolfram & Hart bearing down on them for everything they have.  He’s been burned once by demons with pretty faces offering him everything he asks for, and yet like a fool he signs up for it again.  He hasn’t been burned yet, and he’d half expected them to just have him killed after the case for being ‘ungrateful’, but it’s only a matter of time before there’s some consequence for his recklessness.
          “I hate you,” he mutters into the receiver, squinting the way he thinks the clock is in.
          “We both know that’s not true.”  There’s still laughter in the half-devil’s voice all the more powerful because he knows Lindsey can’t walk away.  
          “Look, if you’re going to continue to yank around this hook in my jaw, I’m hanging up.”  He’s a fish, gobbling up that bright shiny tasty-looking lure, uncaring of its fate.
          At last his voice gets a little more serious.  “Okay, okay.  Not Wolfram & Hart.”
          And after all of that.  “I’m hanging up.”
          “Wait!  Demon cultists.”  And there it is, that little bit of desperation that says this isn’t just him getting yanked around here.  Even the half-devil doesn’t have anywhere else to turn.
          Damn it.  Damn it all.  “…I’m listening.”
          “You heard of a guy named Richard Dowell?” he begins.
          Lindsey whistles.  “How the hell’d you pick a fight with him?  I haven’t even been practicing here long and I already know the name.”
          “He’s not in the game anymore, but he retired to start a cult, and I can confirm demons are involved.  Thing is, his wife and daughter want freedom, and he’s suing for full custody.”  He can actually get to the point, on occasion, when he tries.
          “Evidence of abuse?  Have they been labeled a cult?”  Because that’s a good start. 
          “Yes, and no, although the cops are looking into it.  They’re in a safehouse now, so they’re taking it seriously.”  No questions as to why he wants to know, but then, he’s not certain telepathy is not among Xander’s list of powers.
          On the other hand, as a mere human he definitely doesn’t have telepathy.  “Where are you?”
          “I’m calling from a payphone in sight.  They’re sniffing around, but haven’t tried anything yet.”  There’s something a little darker underlying his tone—he’s probably pulling on his devil powers, there.
          “Sit tight, and I’ll at least meet with them, look at their case.”  He’ll definitely need a glass of water or three, because he will have to be functional for this.  “I mean it.  Don’t kill anyone, try not to shed blood.  I don’t need you making my case harder.”
          “I’ll do my best.”  Oddly, he gets the feeling the devil he knows actually means it for once.  “Thanks for this, McD.”
          “Stop calling me that,” he growls as best he can and hangs up.  The half-devil won’t any more than he can break free of the orbit of the half-devil.  But hey, he’s still alive for the time being, and he has what could shape up to be an interesting case.  He better hunt for a presentable suit.