madimpossibledreamer

        “What do you mean, you can’t teach me?”  It had taken a bit for Willow to wrap her head around the fact that he now had Constantine’s memories, blond hair, and the like, and apparently now that she has she’s decided it’s a good thing.
        “It’s a misconception that he did a lot of magic.  I mean, maybe ‘Laughing Magician’ gave people the wrong idea, but…yeah, okay, he does magic.  Some of his shields and circles and rituals even look pretty.  But John Constantine hates the flashy stuff.  Sure, he loves magic with the same kind of pure love you do, but he’s a bloke that likes to know where he stands.  The flashy shite is complicated, payments differing by how long you leave the meter running and the current constellations and all that rubbish.  You know what he does do?”  He starts listing things off on his fingers.  “Steal things, con people, annoy people.  You know, stuff I’m covered on, two out of three.  Particularly that last one.”  He smiles winningly at her.  In response, she hits his arm.

        “What, are you a fan?” the vampire sneers, and two can play at that game.
        Constantine smiles, promise of hell in that look.  “Nah, you wish, mate.  If anything, it’s the other way round.”  While the vampire reels a little, clearly not expecting the scouse, however faded from a stint across the pond, he continues.  “I’ll give you one chance.  You and yours, sod off, now.”
        “Or what?” the undead laughs, covering unease with bravado.
        The magician pours the contents of his lighter over his hand, then turns it over and lights it.  “Or we find out how much hellfire is needed to get to the center of your Tootsie Pop.”  He curls his tongue around the end, flirtatious and dangerous all in one, because if there’s anything he’s learned from bullies the world over a little flirtation is all they need to fly into a rage.  There’s a part of him, the self-centered bastard, that finds him attractive, of course, in the way one would fall in love with a mirror.  But as much as he flirts with evil, trying to kill innocents isn’t exactly a turn-on, even for a sorry soul like his.

( Oliver's attempting to become the next Mentor accidentally. )

         “What good are you, magician?” Bones spits, and for a moment he thinks it’s a victory.
         Then Jim draws himself up, blue eyes glittering like poisoned icicles.  “I’m not going to bring her back if it’s just going to be something wearing her body!” he yells, restrained violence and fury.  “Believe me, I want Joanna back as much as you do!  The innocence of a child is worth it in this world, always.”  Leonard wouldn’t have thought it, but the fingers on his shoulders have only tightened further, until his very bones groan with protest.  For such a skinny guy who refuses to take care of himself, Kirk is strong.
         “If the likelihood is that we’ll call her and then we’ll die and then innocents will, well, that’s making this already awful situation just that much worse.  Or if you get something back that’s wrong and you have to put it down…”
         The anguish in Jim’s voice is what finally breaks through the rage.  “Who?”
         He’s still taut as a bowstring and vibrating just as much.  For a few seconds, he doesn’t stop baring his teeth, and then he relaxes, just a little.  “My brother, Sam, but I don’t want to talk about it.”
         “Then we won’t.  Let’s talk about what we can do now.”
         The next flash of teeth is Jim’s charismatic seduction smile.  “I guess that means that I can let you go and not worry about putting a leash on you, right?”