Suits and Velvet

[madimpossibledreamer]

this one was fun to write (I love the whole noir voiceover aesthetic)...but the problem is, the next chapter in this one is also unfinished.  As is everything else, apparently.  I'm working on it, but I'm behind on a lot of RL stuff, too, so...no promises.
~Dreamer~

Main Points:
Buffy/Dresden Files Crossover
Chapter Summary:  Officer Summers needs Wizard Harris's help.
Word Count: 2679
Rating: Teen

           “I still hate this plan.  Have I mentioned how much I hate this plan?”  I had, actually, but this was the kind of statement that I felt couldn’t be said enough.
           Summers shuts me up with a single glare that communicates how done she is with the entire situation.  Me, my complaining, the part where I really can’t tell her everything without getting people I care about in trouble despite or even because of the fact that she knew about the supernatural, her wannabe boyfriend, the return of all the Slayer stuff she’d tried to avoid, the fact that she didn’t want to turn down the wannabe boyfriend, vampire-shaped concerns aside, the fact that said vampire-shaped concerns had the added complication of ‘probably has a soul’ with a dash of how the hell did he manage that one…
           Yeah, I’d be fed up with it all too.
           “I’m not dancing with glee, either, but I w-i-s-h you’d stop wasting your breath whining about it and actually tell me your infinitely better idea, Harris.”
           I winced, as I do every single time my last name came up, which was unfortunately often, and resolved, again, to find that taunting paperwork to change it.  Yes, I said taunting.  As in, it’s taunting me.  The biggest problem, Will informed me, was that I was being neurotic again about finding the perfect name to change it to.  Again, both of us had a point.  I couldn’t, and didn’t want to, keep putting it off forever, but at the same time, Names had power.  Had weight.  There was the added complication that I am a gigantic nerd and kept waffling between changing it to something nerdy and something wholly my own.  While I was at it, I also added a general mental complaint that the world was still very much a sexist one and I had to be the one to deal with the cops, because while Willow would’ve gotten along with Summers leagues better than I did, the rest of them would take her even less seriously than they did me.  Which takes considerable effort.  We tried having her be Face once.  We didn’t get paid.  They grumbled about me, but they paid me, which is galaxies of not okay, but we agreed getting paid was better, if only for the state of our rent. 
           It also didn’t help that looking into murders could endear you greatly to your friendly neighborhood executioners when one had the Doom of Damocles hanging by a thread above their pretty head.  Warden Giles didn’t seem too into the lopping off people’s heads thing, but I’d seen him in action and no matter how hard it was to wrap my brain around I was aware that getting on his bad side was a terrible, awful, no-good idea.  I wasn’t sure whether or not I appreciated Warden Wesley’s approach instead; the one where he lurks down back alleys practicing his Queen of Hearts impressions.  On one hand, that was terrifying, but on the other hand, I knew what we were getting into the moment he showed up.  Giles was a little more…unpredictable.  So she got to be dealing with the nice, easy lost cat case, with the friendly old lady who keeps feeding her cookies, and I had to go down to the police station and try not to accidentally disappear into the ground from the amount I really, really did not enjoy dealing with them, or having them looking at me, or…anything, really.  Willow will come along, sometimes, and she’ll definitely help out in the legwork, but when it comes to the wonderful task of your friendly neighborhood wizard outreach, I’m it.  Hooray.  Lemme break out the pom-poms of excitement.
           Summers was nice enough, in her sarcastic way, but the whole powerful lady-with-wit that she uses me to sharpen reminds me a little too much of my high school bully, which just puts me on edge, which puts her more on edge…it’s a never-ending, vicious cycle, and I don’t have the spell to break it.
           “You know I’d mention it if I had one,” I groan, stretching out, not meeting her eyes.  She’s looking at me pointedly.  I expect she wants me to look at her, like I’m actually taking this seriously.  And the thing is, I am.  Annoying and loudmouthed is kind of a default setting for me, except I just get worse when I’m scared.  Besides, the last thing we need right now is a soulgaze.  She should be thanking me, but for the whole part where I’d actually have to explain that.
           “Xander.”  My first name.  Must be serious.  She puts a hand on my arm.  I glance back over and focus my gaze near the bridge of her nose, so at least it’s closer to what she’s looking for me.  “I don’t like the idea of sending you to the wolves any more than you do.  This is usually the part where we’d have an undercover officer go in.”
           “But, lemme guess, you’re pretty sure they’re all compromised.”  It was a joke, but she doesn’t laugh, and the silence stretches.  I throw up my hands.  “Seriously?”
           “We’re fairly certain Steel at least knows who they all are,” Summers explains reluctantly.  “I’d at least be a lot happier if we could give you a wire.”
           “Yeah, and then, when he finds it, he can kill me.”  My voice is doing that thing it does when I get slightly hysterical.  It’s unfortunate.  I will myself to calm down as the overhead lights try to decide whether they belong in a horror movie or a rave.  I’m getting way too worked up if I’m casually hexing things when I haven’t even been here an hour.  “I mean, you could, but I can’t promise to return it in one piece.”  Again, neither Willow nor I are as bad on tech than others I can mention in wizarding circles, but my emotions would be running higher than they are now from the sheer anticipation, to put it delicately, and that usually leads to toasty electronics in less than two hours.  It would work, for a bit, but it probably wouldn’t make it back to her hands in still working condition.
           “SI’s already running high on budget as it is.”  She sighs.
           If her higher-ups were willing to authorize a raid, we could at least disturb whatever kind of deal was going down between the Red Court and the mob, but the bribery was a little too thorough.  They wouldn’t even let Summers go in, never mind the fact that I’m pretty sure Steel would know her instantly.  He probably memorizes the faces of everybody who dares to tell him no.  Among other things, it’d probably be faster than remembering all the corrupt people.  And it’s not like we could argue the importance of stopping this before it can happen on the basis of vampires.  They’d be hustling us over to the doctors of mental care before we could finish.  Even if she acted like she’d been bitten, chances were high Steel wouldn’t take the chance, and we didn’t want to run even the slightest risk Summers would get killed.  I was our best chance of sneaking in and getting something (or just setting fire to the proceedings), only it’d be totally suspicious if Random Wizard Private Eye just shows up and crashes the party, so we’d have to make it look like I was supposed to be there.  Hence the lovesick bloodsucker offering me to the mobster, as a “sign of good faith”.  Because he was a vampire, and thus it’d only make sense to trade me to the other half of the equation, though it would be the best if we don’t run into him at all.  Also because his people were only likely to perforate me like Swiss cheese, not drink me dry or get me high on vamp spit.
           And when things went wrong, as they inevitably would, I’d at least have one person there supposedly on my side.  The biggest danger is the possibility of someone recognizing Angel.  Technically, if he’s telling the truth, he’s an exile, meaning, if I get all my supernatural politics correct, that if he gets noticed there’s going to be consequences of the Not Good kind.  And the instant he gets made, there goes the slightest hint of protection for me.  He reassured me (and, more importantly, Summers, because I get the feeling he’d be more reluctant to lie to her than me mostly because he has this totally justified conception that if he lies to her she would not be happy) that he wasn’t known by the Court here, so he should blend in as a ladder-climbing fledge.
           And I’d have to act like I was stoned out on the saliva, without having actually been exposed to it, because I needed to keep my wits about me in case of sudden emergency.  The slightly worrying part of the whole scenario (besides the whole scenario) was that I had to fake a bitemark, just in case anyone got too curious.  Which would mean a little bit of blood.  Which would be a flashing neon sign saying “eat me”.
           I let my head thump gently on her desk.  “If I don’t make it, make sure Willow knows, okay?”
           Summers frowns at me and opens her mouth to tell me I’m not dying despite all the concerns we’d just been talking about when the Deadboy of the hour pokes his head in.  “I’m ready if you are,” he announces shyly.  I can’t tell if it’s the guilt or the crush that makes him so careful, but whatever.
           “Don’t get killed.  Either of you.”  The glare Summers fixes us both with makes me shiver, even if I’m not actually meeting her gaze.  Angel looks a little taken aback himself.  The tone implies there will be severe consequences if we do, and Laws or no Laws I’m willing to bet a Slayer could do it, too.  Given that she technically doesn’t use magic I’m not sure we share a jurisdiction, i.e. I don’t know if the High Council considers her one of Theirs or not.
           “Eh.  We’ll have a grand old time storming the castle,” I wave off her concern, even though the way she narrows her eyes says that’s a totally boneheaded thing to do.
           “I’ll take care of him,” Angel promises more seriously as we exit and I actually wave.  I don’t miss the wording, but it’s not like I can just call him on it, here and now.  I have to wait until he actually makes a move, and then I can accuse him of all the backstabbing I want because it’s the truth.  The vampire thing super concerns Buffy.  I’m even more worried about it than she is, and I’m not even wanting to kiss the man.  Not that he’s not good looking, but the whole vampire thing is a turnoff, you know?
           I raise an eyebrow as I take in the car he drove.  And was planning to drive with me in it.  “The Batmobile?”  It’s not the Adam West version, but it does look like the kind of car Bruce Wayne would drive, especially if there’s some sort of transformation button.
           “They were all out of pumpkin carriages,” Angel responds with a smirk, and while I might not like or trust the guy, I have to hand it to him, his banter skills are top notch.
           “You are not my fairy godmother.”  He’s also not one of the animal sidekicks, but I’d feel bad even saying that, and I can manage to not say everything I’m thinking on occasion.  “I’ll do my best to sit over here and think calm thoughts and not mess up your car.”
           He glances at me as we pull out and I try to go hazy and boneless.  I’m basing most of this on seeing Willow’s cat, Miss Kitty Fantastico, on catnip.  “You are not going to break anything,” he states firmly.  It’s less of a case of him trying to will that into reality and more of a warning, and all the quiet, shy side just dived out the window, glass flying everywhere.  It’s times like these that I realize the whole dislike/distrust thing is mutual.
           “Why aren’t you going on your own?” I realize.  He’d be in less danger.
           Angel’s silent for a moment, then gives me an irritated glance when my panic about assassination attempts makes the lights flicker.  “Knock it off,” he growls, human mask slipping slightly, continuing when I take a deep breath.  “When I was looking around, I found a warded room.  I can’t get inside.”
           Thus the wizard.
           “And I don’t have a license.  You do.  Anything I find won’t be admissible in court.”  He sounds vaguely annoyed by that.
           “You could always get one.”  I lazily wave off his next glare, getting into character.  “They do have these things called night classes, and then I wouldn’t even have to be present for you to go and make eyes at the pretty blonde police officer.  There, you can go and learn things like ‘evidence gathered from breaking and entering is still not legally obtained’.  We don’t have a warrant.”  And we’re not going to get one, either, not with the whole corruption thing.  Just another way to get screwed sideways when this all descends to the fiery pits from whence it came.  I’d wonder what Buffy’s even expecting to happen, except I know the answer: neither of us can just close our eyes to a mobster and a vampire making with the pacts, even if it’s going to come back to possibly physically bite us.  And, because of the Accords and the fact we aren’t particularly well liked, no other Council wizard is going to go tilting at windows.  I could drag Willow into this, but she’s probably happily munching cookies and calling her in would almost guarantee fire.  It’s not a question of whether she can take care of herself.  I know she can.  It’s not even that she’s Hysterical Woman and can’t plot and plan like the rest of us.  It’s just that her usual first solution when vampires are involved is setting fire to things, and given our past dealings with the Red Court, I don’t blame her.  I’d even settle in with marshmallows and glee if not for their dancing partners.  I really, really don’t want to run the chance that she’ll kill off one of the mortal-type scumbags and break another Law.  While setting fire to a mansion of vampires and the mob sounds really nice, I like the mental possibility that this can go peacefully.
           I know, I know, I’m a poor deluded soul.  I live in hope.
           “I’m not going to go into all the things that are wrong with that.”  He’s going to be even more weirded out when we get there, only I’m going to be amused, because he’s going to have to hide that reaction.  The silence is awkward, but I prefer it, especially as the next thing out of his mouth sounds like empty words.  “I’ll keep you safe,” he promises.
           I refuse to meet his eyes.  I’m not sure if he’s being honest about the soul thing, though all the indications I’ve seen thus far point to yes, but it’d be just my luck to get sucked into a soulgaze with something that isn’t even human, despite how hard he tries to be.  “In your case, I’ll try.”
           I don’t miss the frown and try not to think about the fact that he looks disturbingly like a kicked puppy.  I don’t want to know how he managed that one.  I answer the unspoken, yawning and stretching out to grab a slight nap before we head into the lion’s den.  “Because unlike you, I have a realistic idea of my abilities and just how badly this is going to go.”
           I’m already mostly gone by the time Angel figures out a response.  I don’t hear it.