Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

People always say that the first step taken is the worst. That truth can probably be applied to the first of pretty much anything. First dates, first jobs, first fights, first anything. Especially the first day of a new job. Especially when that new job requires being in charge and responsible for the two siblings of a sworn enemy.

But the first steps towards this dreaded job were already taken so he might as well get on with it because any leadership position is better than none, even if that job is not as great or powerful as Deputy Commissioner.

Magnus hasn’t even stepped out of the elevator onto the floor of his new precinct and he can already hear the squad, his squad, talking about him. He can’t see any of their faces from where he stands, paused with everyone’s back to him, but he can definitely make out the voices of the two Lightwood siblings. He takes the moment to eavesdrop, a rare opportunity to glimpse into the team’s candid feelings about him. God, it feels like moving to New York and being the new kid at high school all over again.

“I really need us to get a good captain if I ever want to make captain within this century. I need my own Michael Scott.” Magnus is a little surprised to hear a pop culture reference from a Lightwood.

“What?”

“You know, like my own Yoda or senpai or… or rabbi! A real mentor.”

“First of all, you know using using the word ‘rabbi’ turns me on which is unfair in the work environment. Second, whoever they are, they are probably just going to be another uptight rule following robot that is obsessed with upholding the law.” The Lightwoods aren’t Jewish so Magnus knows that voice is one of the six other squad members.

"Meep morp the law is the law meep morp." Definitely a Lightwood.

Magnus has heard enough. He grits his teeth, pushing down his anger by will alone. So much for the self pep talks all weekend about how the Lightwood siblings couldn't all be that bad. Magnus pulls up his defensive walls, his face becoming carefully neutral with an icy tone as he walks fully past the gate and into the bullpen to address his new precinct that gathered to laugh at jokes at his expense.

"Isn’t our duty as detectives to solve crimes, which are direct obstructions of the law?"

"Oh heyyy new captain!" The voice exclaims with surprise. Magnus knows they aren’t a Lightwood with their chestnut brown hair and light tawny skin, but they were bouncing off robot captain jokes with the blond Lightwood just moments ago. "Didn't see you there!"

"No, please don't let me interrupt you two. You were just explaining how I'm going to be a law following, rule pushing robotic captain and I'd like you to continue."

"We meant that in a good way!"

The blond Lightwood, Chace or something generic like that, chimes in too now, cheeks burning red, "Yes exactly."

Magnus raises one eyebrow, looking from one to the other with an expression that reads annoyed disbelief loud and clear. "The robot voice."

The two look at each other out of the corner of their eyes. The blond Lightwood goes first, in a stilted and awful imitation robot voice, "Meep morp I'm your new captain meep meep."

"Meep meep of the Brooklyn nine-nine precinct morp meep."

After the brunette stops with his robotic arm movements, Magnus stands there in the uncomfortable silence that falls amongst the group for a moment. Both the offenders are looking at their shoes and refusing to make eye contact like the ashamed children they should be. "Those are terrible robot voices."

"Yes."

"Absolutely."

Magnus sees the long dark haired brunette Lightwood stifle a chuckle into a cough at the meek responses. Maybe just 2/3 of the Lightwoods are intolerable. He focuses his attention on the short haired brunette with the awful robot impersonation again. "And next time I see you, I'd like you to be wearing a tie."

Magnus leaves the gathered group now, heading for his office in the back, already craving the solitude that he knows it will bring. A voice calls him back, "Actually, our old captain didn't care if we wore ties or not. Plus not all of us can pull off a tie like Jace can."

Magnus turns on his heel to face them again, face neutral to keep his visible aggravation to a minimum. His voice leaves no room for argument as he addresses the brunette meep morper, "I don’t care about whether or not you can ‘pull off a tie’ and as your new commanding officer, I would like you to follow dress code protocol."

That reminds Magnus that he still hasn't introduced himself to the whole precinct. He takes a deep breath as he looks across the bullpen, "Good morning squad, my name is Captain Magnus Bane, the new captain of the nine-nine."

The long haired Lightwood’s eyes light up, the green undertones in their smooth light tawny skin coming through even in the miserable fluorescent lighting. "Speech!"

Magnus glances over at them, appreciating their sharp winged eyeliner though he is definitely back on the train of thought that all the Lightwoods are a nuisance. "That was my speech."

They nod their head to themselves. "Short and sweet. I love it."

"Sergeant Garroway, a word," Magnus calls, finally retreating behind the desk in his private office.

The tall, dark brown man in question enters Magnus's office, shaking his hand firmly over the desk. "Magnus."

"Luke," Magnus responds, relief filling him at seeing an old acquaintance from his training days at the police academy. Luke's a large part of the reason that Magnus even considered taking this position. "It's good to see you again."

"Likewise, sir." Luke's smile is genuine, the warm sentiment shared between them. "But I have been following your professional development."

"So you know how important this position is to me then," Magnus says with a simple raised eyebrow that Luke nods his head in the affirmative at. Magnus gestures at the desk between them. "Though, I'm not sure why it's not you that’s on my side of this desk when you definitely have at least eight years seniority on me."

Luke huffs out a laugh. "I usually prefer to lead with more on the ground, field work than behind a desk. Much less paperwork that way, even as a sergeant."

Magnus nods his head in understanding. He raises an eyebrow, "Then why do I hear that you've been on voluntary desk duty for the past year instead of out in the field?"

"My wife passed away a couple of years ago from breast cancer and I sort of threw myself into work even though I knew I wasn't in a great place mentally. It lead to me damaging some of my closest relationships and getting seriously injured out in the field. Even once I recovered from that injury and did my desk time, I still haven't really felt well enough mentally to get back into the field again."

Luke's voice is steady and honest, but firm like this is a decision he isn't ashamed of because he knows himself well enough. That's something about Luke, he's always been sure of himself, even when they were struggling through the academy together. It's something that Magnus also embodies so he always admired the trait in Luke.

"That makes sense - thank you for explaining." Magnus nods as he stands up from his chair, circling around his desk. He claps Luke on the shoulder. "Listening and taking care of your mental health is crucial, especially in this line of work where it can be so easily brushed aside from the negative stigma in the workplace culture. If you ever feel ready to change from desk duty, please don't hesitate to let me know and we can work through what that requires. I have a strong feeling that you are a crucial aspect of this team in whatever capacity you are able to contribute."

"Thank you, Captain Bane. I absolutely will, sir."

"Now, will you tell me a little bit about our squad?"

Magnus and Luke head towards the big office window with open blinds that looks over the bullpen.

"Definitely. First, we have one of our most fearless detectives who is as fierce and scary as she looks, Maia Roberts."

Luke gestures to a woman wearing a black leather jacket, with brown terracotta skin, tight black curls, and lips set in a straight line. While Magnus takes her in, she starts hitting the side of her monitor screen in frustration, articulating well what Luke meant.

"Next we have one of our hardest working detectives, Isabelle Lightwood. She's brilliant and has a big heart but a Lightwood, so she's competitive and always trying to prove herself. "

Magnus nods his head in understanding, hesitant to appreciate the organized and neat desk of the long wavy haired brunette since she is a Lightwood as he correctly remembered. Even now at 8:30 am on a Monday morning, she's filling out what seems to be a case file so Magnus may have a little bit of appreciation for her.

"Her brother, Jace Lightwood, is definitely more trouble. He's dedicated and smart but terribly stubborn and prone to childish antics. He has a bet with one of the other detectives against his sister and Maia for more arrests by the end of this quarter. While I don't know what the prize is, I do know that our arrest numbers are way up."

Magnus narrows his eyes at the blond Lightwood with light peach skin as he spins aimlessly in circles in his desk chair. Definitely a troublesome Lightwood like Magnus feared. A vibrant orangey-red head shoves at his chair while passing, not even looking up from their phone as they head to the desk in front of the office. "Who's that?"

"That's your assistant, Clary. She's actually an art major but when she couldn't find a job after college, I had Captain McGinnis hire her. She's bright, just not about science or cop stuff. She's strangely good at accomplishing random, hard tasks but also a major influencer of the group's dynamic, both negatively and positively. She's also my daughter."

"Ah yes, I do remember you mentioning her endless antics with a neighborhood friend when we were at the academy." Magnus watches Clary continue to text on her phone with one peachy pink hand while the other one scribbles something down on a pad of paper.

"Yes... and he's actually here too. He was the non Lightwood sibling in the robot incident this morning, Simon Lewis. He's one of the best detectives we have. He loves solving puzzles and putting away bad guys. But like Jace, he still hasn't solved the biggest puzzle of all: how to grow up."

"That is... well put," Magnus responds evenly, watching Simon as he does a silly shimmy in Isabelle's direction after successfully tossing a balled up piece of paper into the trash can next to her desk.

"Thanks - I talk about the squad a lot at my bi-weekly department mandated therapy sessions."

"You know my history and how much this position means to me. It was a key deciding factor of why I took this job despite both of the other Lightwood siblings being a part of the team and my strong desire to never interact with another person from that family again."

"They are a lot at first, but they warm up to you quickly. Though I'm not sure your initial dislike of them based on their brother is fully warranted."

"When it came down to the two of us, despite being five years Alec's senior, he was still chosen for the position of Deputy Commissioner over me. I dislike him and them based on all the privilege of straight white men alone."

“Are you sure about that?” Luke asks with a raised eyebrow. The thought of there being any other justification for Alec getting the position over Magnus makes him release a chuckle out loud that eases Luke’s expression before continuing, "Well I can confirm for a fact that Isabelle doesn't fit two of those factors as a Latinx woman."

"It's the association of the principle that matters Sergeant Garroway," Magnus responds slightly petulantly, well aware that he is being childish but the exhaustion of constantly not being chosen for leadership positions because of his identities has worn him down over the years. Microaggressions are tiring.

"Right, sir. Can I do anything else for you Captain Bane?"

"No that's it for now, thank you Sergeant Garroway," Magnus remarks as he dismisses Luke while closing the blinds. Luke closes the door behind him and Magnus finally sits down in his leather chair, the desk empty and impersonal. He vows to himself to get something to decorate the space, to make it looks more like his, make his presence known and blatant like he always does.

He’s always refused to bow or bend his back to hide any aspect of himself or his feelings and this captain position is no different. He takes out a stack of papers from his inbox, looking forward to the peace and solitude of mindless paperwork while getting settled into his job with a precinct that already doesn't like him.

It doesn't matter if they like him, Magnus reasons, all that matters is that they respect him and they will because if anything, Magnus is damn good at his job. It's the whole reason he's been able to make it this far and high in the department at all and no one, not even the siblings of his enemy nor the nine-nine, can ever take that away from him.

The respect from the squad comes much faster than Magnus expected.

Especially with the way that Simon and Jace seem to resist direct orders at almost every chance they get. Their attitude is directly grating on Magnus’s nerves, feeling like a personal slight against his character, instead of just two man babies that are used to having as much liberty as possible in their actions with little consequences, fighting discipline and rules.

Magnus even had to bench both of them to old case filing, separately, for a couple of hours after they let their main suspect in a major murder case get away. It was the first murder case for the precinct under Magnus’s command. He’s furious that they were so careless, so unaware of how this looks not just on them but the squad as a whole, on Magnus and everything he has worked so hard to build. The old case filing does them both good, especially Simon, giving him lots of idle brain time to churn through different clues and finally make a lead on where the suspect could be hiding out.

That’s where the majority of the nine-nine finds themselves right now: on a stakeout at a storage facility unit. Simon, Isabelle, and Magnus in one car with Jace and Maia in another at the other end of the building. It’s the beginning of Magnus’s third week but he can’t help but feel that he’s making a little bit of progress on Jace and Simon’s attitudes towards him, this case definitely helping with that.

Magnus even overheard Simon ask Maia the other day what her thoughts were about the new captain and she said she thought he was cool. It’s just one more person on Magnus’s side but he’ll take it because the longer Jace and Simon’s shenanigans drag out, the more draining this position will be.

“You know what I like most about stakeouts?”

Neither Isabelle nor Magnus bother to respond to Simon’s question, easy to ignore from where he sits in the middle of the back seat of the undercover car. Magnus isn’t entirely sure where Isabelle is with him as the new captain. He thinks she might be trying to suck up to him because she actually respects him and wants his approval but a bigger part of him remembers that she’s a Lightwood so she could be just waiting to stab him in the back at the last minute. The last part is a little dramatic but a couple of weeks of good interactions is not nearly long enough to soothe over old wounds.

Undeterred by their nonresponses, Simon continues on, “Protocol book states that there is no dress code for stakeouts so it can just be me and my zip up hoodie that makes me look like a college kid again.”

“Makes you smell like one too,” Isabelle remarks with a smug smile. Magnus bites down on his bottom lip to keep from smiling as well but the corner of his lip twitches up, giving him away. He watches in the rear view mirror as Simon smells the hoodie of his sweatshirt in offense. Isabelle continues, “Seriously, when was the last time you washed that thing?”

Simon pauses, thinking back for a moment before he shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter, it’s not important.”

For some reason that unsettles Magnus, as it does Isabelle, both of them make similar faces of disgust as they pull their heads back, eyebrows down, and scrunch their noses.

Simon pushes the hood of his sweatshirt back as he leans forward, resting both of his forearms on the back of Magnus and Isabelle’s seats. “Captain Bane, when I was filing those old case files, I saw your name on so many of them. Some really, really big ones like the dismantling of the Circle Mob. That trial was happening around the time when I decided to join the police academy and was definitely a major influence on me to become a detective instead of a musician.”

Magnus is a little surprised by this sudden change in conversation topic, well acquainted with one of the highest profile mob cases to come out of New York City in the past twenty years. The breakthrough he was able to uncover of the cult-like Circle Mob was their use of shipping containers and boats for a headquarters which mean they were always on the move. He remembers the rush of that break through like it was yesterday.

The reveal of Simon’s other potential career path definitely interests Magnus as well, he hums gently to show he’s listening.

“I’ve got to ask sir, why has it taken you so long to get your own command? I mean, looking at your case files, you should have had your own command years ago.”

Magnus smiles to himself, a little bit of that bitterness that he always carries around about the New York Police Department’s racism and homophobia coming through in the curve of his lips. He looks forward over the steering wheel. “Because I’m an outspoken and openly bisexual Asian American officer. I’m surprised you didn’t realize sooner, I’m not exactly subtle.”

Sure Magnus hasn’t been wearing eyeshadow that is the colors of the bi flag every day or solely ties that are the bi gradient. But he is comfortable in his masculinity and gender identity to wear some makeup, whatever little bit he has energy for in the morning, and there is a small bi flag in the pencil holder on his desk, bi colored binders on the shelf behind his desk, and a framed newspaper clipping in the hallway of the precinct whose title reads, “NYPD PROMOTES ITS FIRST OPENLY LGBT+ ASIAN AMERICAN OFFICER TO CAPTAIN”.

“Wow, I am not a good detective at all,” Simon mutters to himself.

Isabelle snorts out a laugh like she agrees before addressing Magnus, “I’m really sorry Captain, it must have been really hard to watch your less qualified straight, white coworkers get promoted instead of you. I’m glad that things are changing in the department, albeit slowly.”

Magnus turns his head to Isabelle, intrigued at what she is saying. He wonders if she is hinting at the fact that her own eldest brother got the position that Magnus so dearly wanted.

“Definitely too slowly - I was kept from leadership positions for most of my career but in the past couple of years, the department suddenly couldn’t wait to put me in visible positions. But in the public relations division, not in charge of a squadron. I took them because I wanted to prove that I was capable of more responsibilities. It allowed me to create LGBT+ police groups and raise visibility about conditions for minorities as well as improve our healthcare plans. But I never stopped applying to positions more in line with what I actually wanted,” Magnus remarks solemnly, feeling a bit of the tension in his shoulder relax as he willingly shares a bit of the burdens of his own path to here.

It hasn’t been an easy journey, so many doors closed, both blatantly and subtly, in his face along the way, but it’s one he is proud of just the same. He knows there is a lot of good he’s done along the way too and there is more good for him to do as captain of the nine-nine. “That’s why following the rules is so important to me - it’s harder for people to deny you that way. And now that I am finally captain of my own squadron, I refuse to give anyone the option to take that away from me.”

“That must have been so frustrating sir, I had no idea. I’m sorry.” Simon adds, voice sounding genuine in a way that surprises Magnus. But perhaps Simon too knows what it feels like to have multiple doors close simply for who he is as a Jewish Latino.  

“Understood, sir.” Isabelle sounds almost awestruck and Magnus isn’t sure if it is from his experience or the amount of personal professional background information he just shared with her. He is half expecting her to take out her notepad that he knows she keeps in her pocket at all times to jot down important aspects of his experience.

“Anddd back to the case at hand, that’s our perp! I was right - I take back what I said: I’m an amazing detective! Let’s go catch a bad guy!” Simon sounds borderline giddy at his lead coming to fruition as he velcros on his bulletproof vest.

It’s nearly contagious but Magnus resists, instead rolling his eyes as he too secures his vest. He reaches for the walkie talkie, “Roberts, suspect has been spotted. You and Jace work your way to the center, secure the premises. Remember your vests, the suspect is believed to be armed. Over.”

“Mission’s clear. We’re suiting up now. Over,” Maia’s voice crackles back over the walkie talkie before Magnus puts it back on the dash.

Isabelle, Simon, and Magnus file out of the car, tasers out and at the ready in case the suspect is actively armed. Methodically, they go down the rows of storage units, covering each other’s backs and verifying that the coast is clear. It’s pretty dull with the only person they run into being a custodian staff member who gives Isabelle a hard time about getting in the way of their mopping.

Once they run into Jace and Maia, they agree to split up again to look at the individual storage locker doors with only one joke being made by Simon at their expense of the pointlessness of door duty, referencing a complaint he had made only days prior.

Magnus has made it halfway down one aisle before a commotion two aisles over catches his attention and he turns on his heel, heading for the row that Simon went down only moments before. Magnus waits just around the corner with his taser at the ready, listening as Simon confronts Rufus, demanding that he put his gun down.

“Because if you look behind me, you’ll see Captain Bane and to your left, Detectives Roberts and both Lightwoods. My team has you surrounded.”

Magnus steps out from around the corner as Maia and Jace step closer to where Rufus stands in a storage unit, blocking all four possible exits.

“Oh my god! I get it now! The whole tie thing! We’re a team and the tie is part of our uniform! And you were finally given your own team so you want us to be in uniform like a real team,” Simon suddenly exclaims, his head turning slightly to look over at Magnus.

“And it’s protocol but very good Lewis, now back to the case at hand,” Magnus responds calmly, eyes never leaving Rufus, who still has a weapon in hand though it is not pointed at anyone.

“Wait, do you want Rufus to join your team?” The armed suspect in question asks, confusion in his tight eyebrows and uptick in his voice.

“What? No! Rufus, you aren’t part of the team. Put your weapon down on the ground, you’re under arrest for murder.” Simon sounds incredulous, taser and full attention back on Rufus.

Rufus raises both of his arms as he slowly leans over to put the gun down on the ground. The moment he does, he turns and heads down the row where Isabelle is. Maia quickly yells, “We got a runner!”

“I got him!” Isabelle exclaims as she extends her baton from her tool belt, hitting Rufus hard in the leg and causing him to fall face forward. She grabs handcuffs from her belt as she leaps over him, efficiently handcuffing his arms behind his back. She stands him back up as she reads his Miranda rights, “Rufus, you are under arrest by the NYPD for murder. You have the right to remain silent. If you give up the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you desire an attorney and cannot afford one, an attorney will be obtained for you before police questioning.”

Maia walks up next to Isabelle, gentling knocking their elbows together. “Nice work Lightwood.”

“Thanks,” Jace responds from behind them.

Maia rolls her eyes. “Obviously not you.” She gestures her head to Isabelle, “This nerd.”

“And a proud one at that,” Isabelle says as she tilts her head side to side, smiling at the rare praise from Maia.

“I know - it’s cute,” Maia retorts, making Isabelle smile even brighter. She collapses her baton against her thigh and tucks it back into her tool belt. Maia laughs quietly to herself, “Nerd.”

As the squad heads to their cars, Simon playfully taunts Isabelle and Maia as his latest arrest brings him and Jace closer to their arrest lead. Simon stops before he opens the back seat of the car door, turning to Maia, Jace, and Isabelle. “After we bring Rufus in to the precinct, celebratory round at Hunter’s Moon?”

The question is met with a chorus of yeahs from the three of them. Magnus’s heart pains a little at being left out, not certain if it is because he’s their captain or if its because of his other identities that people have used as an excuse to purposefully exclude him from events in the past, even when he was just a detective like them. People say that the ache gets easier with time but Magnus knows that’s a lie, it just becomes normalized.

It’s fine, he shouldn’t be spending time with the people he’s in charge of anyway. Plus, he has leftover take out and a couple of episodes of Black Lightning to watch on his DVR.

Maia turns her head back to look at Magnus, “What about you, sir?”

“Yeah, you gonna join us? Celebrate your first murder arrest as captain with your squad?” Simon asks, nearly singing the last question.

“We can see if Clary and Sarge are still at the precinct and want to join us to make it a complete team outing,” Isabelle adds.

“Come on, it’ll be fun. Plus drinks are on Simon,” Jace says quickly before ducking into the passenger seat of Maia and his undercover car.

“What?!” Simon sputters, clearly betrayed. “You gonna pay my student loans and mountains of credit card debt, Lightwood?”

Jace pretends he can’t hear Simon through the window even though Maia’s door is wide open, shrugging with an fake confused expression. Simon mutters to himself, “Yeah, I thought so.”

He turns his attention back to Magnus who is just watching this whole exchange with a slightly amused smile at the blatant comradery and good relationship between the detectives in his squad. “So what do you say? Ready to experience Hunter’s Moon with the nine-nine?”

“I do love a good celebratory drink…” Magnus says, watching Isabelle do a small, excited fist pump out of the corner of his eye. The corner of his lips twitches up, “Especially if it’s free.”

Simon’s eyes widen, betrayed again. He lets out a defeated sigh. “Fine, I guess I can get my new captain his first murder case arrest celebratory drink.” He straightens up suddenly, pointing a finger at Magnus, “But just one. I’m serious about my credit card debt.”

Magnus climbs into the front seat of their undercover car, small smile lingering on his face as a result of their interaction. A small bit of hope blooms in the center of his chest. Maybe being captain of the nine-nine won’t be as miserable of a position as he originally thought it would be, Lightwoods and childish detectives included.

Maybe things really are changing for the better in the NYPD.

Things have been going… better at the precinct but Magnus is trying not to get his hopes up that they will continue that way. For the most part, the nine-nine seems to respect him on some level even though they still do try to argue back about rules and following protocol, but way less than they were just under three months ago when Magnus first started. Magnus is surprised to say that he might even enjoy his squad; they are all extremely dedicated, hardworking in their own way, and care for one another in a way that Magnus has never seen in any other precinct or department that he’s worked for. He may be getting attached to them, all of them - Lightwood siblings and Simon Lewis included.

His enjoyment of his squad really is the only reason he’s extra irritable about something as mundane as quarterly statistics right now. The end of his first quarter as captain is coming up fast and they’ve pretty much hit a slump in terms of case work the past half a month or so. Well a slump isn’t completely accurate either. It seems that every time they are close to solving a case these days, Lydia Branwell from the Special Crimes Division swoops in and takes it from them.

The whole squad refers to her as the Vulture and her behavior definitely warrants the nickname. Needless to say it’s catching on; Magnus caught himself cursing the Vulture’s name after she stole their third case in a two week time frame. The nine-nine really can’t afford to continue to lose cases at this rate; he and everything he is riding on can’t afford to tank their arrest numbers. It is a crucial factor in measuring the success of a department which means it is a crucial factor in identifying the success and capability of Magnus as captain.

He needs their numbers to be good - no, outstanding.

The whole scenario has him on edge. Everything the squad does seems to aggravate him to no end, makes him snappy and annoyed towards them. It doesn’t help that he can hear when they speculate about his poor mood, annoyed back for his curtness and constant push for them to be productive.

He knows that they can’t possibly be working all hours of the day on solving cases but he does feel like they are sabotaging him a way, like they are purposefully alerting the Vulture about the progression of their cases so she’ll take them off their hands. It isn’t a terribly far reach - it does mean there is less paperwork for them to fill out which is a task that Simon and Jace absolutely despise.

But Magnus also knows that Isabelle’s actually complained that the Vulture stole her last case because it meant that she was no longer able to test out her latest organizational method and format for case files. She’s been trying to standardize the whole process with little success in her favor. While Magnus genuinely appreciates her efforts as well as file formatting, the rest of the squad (and other departments) are hesitant to jump on board because of the additional effort it entails.

That’s probably why Isabelle is still at the precinct with Magnus right now, despite it being 8pm on a Tuesday evening and their shifts ending hours ago. Magnus knows he is still here with hopes of completing a couple more case files to turn in before the end of the day to be counted for this quarter. Whereas he imagines that Isabelle is revamping her latest case file after Simon completed his portion of the report so that it reads consistently.

He changes his focus back to his computer screen, the blinking of his typing cursor taunting him because he knows that even with these handful of reports the numbers are still bleak. He sighs in frustration, annoyed at everything and anything in the moment: at Lydia for stealing cases, at the racism in the bureau as well as the homophobia and biphobia that tie his capability to lead simply to numbers, at his precinct for being childish buffoons that are often lazy with their paperwork which drags out the whole processing timeline.

He is well aware that some of his aggravation isn’t well founded but the whole situation is just frustrating. And now that Magnus finally has his own command that he is rather attached to, he doesn’t want it to be suddenly taken away from him if the department doesn’t think he can run the precinct successfully. If that is what happens, he’ll never get to be the Chief Deputy Commissioner.

A sharp knock on his door jars Magnus back to the present. He feels embarrassed at having lowered his guard enough to not notice someone approach his glass office. He draws his eyebrows down in a combination of anger and confusion, “Detective Lightwood?”

“I know you’ve been really stressed lately so I did a little research and found some good news that I thought you might like to read,” Isabelle explains, still hovering in the doorway. A thick binder report is held between her hands.

Definitely intrigued about whatever the hell Isabelle thinks has Magnus stressed (and maybe in need of a break from staring at his computer screen), Magnus gestures to the seat in front of him with a single raised eyebrow.

At the encouragement to continue, Isabelle talks as she walks into his office, “I know you’ve been worrying about our arrest records for the past quarter, especially with the amount of cases the Special Crimes Division seems to be taking, but our numbers have remained steady this quarter with last.”

“And how is that good news?” Magnus counters, bitterness coating his words. Staying at the same place as the previous shitty, absent, disorderly captain sounds like exactly the opposite for Magnus. At least the previous captain had white and straight privilege to shine his mediocrity into greatness - two privileges that Magnus absolutely does not have working in his favor.

“Our arrests stayed the same - that is the good news!” Magnus’s face stays purposefully blank, a single eyebrow raised in annoyance for wasting his time with bad news in the face of her excitement.

She opens the binder in her hand. “Look, I went back over the past fifty years of arrest records for the nine-nine and analyzed the arrests per quarter against whether it was the first quarter for that captain as well. In every single quarter there was a new captain, the arrests for the department would decrease. But we didn’t! We stayed the same.”

Magnus nods his head, looking over her detailed line graphs of the nine-nine’s arrests over quarters that are broken down into each captain’s career and include the quarter prior to their start. The graphs are well labeled, detailed, and show Magnus’s number as staying even, unlike every single other captain on the graph whom all have dips in the line for their first dot.

Magnus’s career length is noticeable as the smallest of the thirteen captains presented on the graph, comprised of only two points, but somehow it looks hopeful. He nods his head to himself as he flips through a couple more pages of the detailed report, reading Isabelle’s other analyses and conclusions as well as a detailed break down of the arrest types over the years.

“So you’ve been working on compiling this report instead of your actual cases?” Magnus’s voice is blunt, the bitterness dropping away but still annoyed because he was really counting on Isabelle to have all her casework in before the end of the day, even the case she solved that day.

Isabelle pulls her head back quickly in confusion. She shakes her head back and forth. “What? No. I just stayed after hours to put this together for you. Since the breaking and entering suspect in Simon and I’s case confessed today, I was able to put the report in the system with Sergeant Garroway’s signature instead of yours. I thought you could use one less file to approve to get everything in before tonight.”

“Good.” Magnus nods slowly to himself, trying to mask his surprise at Isabelle’s thoughtfulness and brilliance. “That’s good to hear.”

“Can I help you enter any of the files you have remaining?” Isabelle asks, expression genuine as if she doesn’t mind staying even later to lend a hand.

“No I’m good,” Magnus says as he shakes his head back and forth. “I just have two left and then I’ll be done myself. Thanks for the offer though.”

Isabelle nods, smiling brightly as she stands up. “No problem. Always happy to help with paperwork, sir.”

“I know and I appreciate it,” Magnus says, the corner of his lips turning up at the truth in Isabelle’s words. One of the most beautiful and brilliant women he has ever met that also loves paperwork, organization, and her blood red industrial stapler that Alec gave her for Christmas one year that has her name engraved on it. She’s pretty much the exact opposite of any sort of preconceived notions one would jump to at first glance, Magnus included. He’s glad that his perceptions of her were wrong, especially as a dreaded Lightwood.

“Oh and Detective Lightwood...” At the sound of her name, Isabelle stops and turns in the doorway. Magnus lifts up the binder she brought into the office with her. “Thank you for this too.”

Magnus didn’t even know her smile could become brighter but it does, her whole face lighting up at his praise. “You’re very welcome. Good night, Captain Bane.”

“Good night Detective Lightwood,” Magnus says, offering his own smile before returning to finishing up the file for the case in front of him. His whole body relaxes now, no longer feeling like his whole future in the department is on the line in this exact moment.

The nine-nine is doing good; he’s doing good.

Magnus walks across the bullpen to his office, eyes focused on the report in his hands, Simon's latest case file. They've been working on bringing Simon and Jace's case filings on par with the rest of the squad’s, well at least with Maia's. Simon is definitely improving at a faster rate than Jace but they are both making good progress just the same. If they continue at this rate, maybe they'll even write reports as well and detailed as Isabelle before Magnus retires from the precinct.

“Good joke,” Magnus thinks to himself.

The buzzing of a fly catches Magnus's attention mid bullpen. He glances away from the report, searching for the source. Flies are never a good sign. To his left is Simon's trash where three flies currently circle, not surprising in the slightest.

Magnus slowly looks up to where Simon types away into a Google search bar. "Simon, did you finally throw away your science experiment of the actual shelf life of little debbie cakes in your own trash after I've been warning you that it is a health hazard for the past month?"

Simon spins around in his chair to face Magnus. "What? No - I mean yes I threw it out. But like last week in the dumpster in the back so Jace and I could give it a true Roman burial."

"It definitely was living before we set it on fire," Jace adds from behind Magnus.

At the same time, Jace and Simon cross their right hand over their hearts and whisper, "Rest in Peace Lil Honey Buns."

Magnus eyes both of them warily, curious as to how long the two of them practiced that move together in case this moment ever arose. Upon second evaluation of the two of them and their close friendship, Magnus wouldn't be surprised if that was a completely organic moment.

"Then did someone throw out some of Isabelle's latest cooking experiment, grey-idge, into Simon's trash?" The bullpen remains silent at Magnus's question. "Or Jace's marinated cow's tongue that he shared last week?"

"Hey! I thought everyone loved my cow's tongue!" Jace protests, looking hurt as he glances around at the squad, many of whom refuse to make eye contact back.

"It was well seasoned and very tender," Magnus offers diplomatically.

"Jace, not everyone has the same... refined palate and food interests that you have. It definitely could have been cut differently to be less... obvious as to what it was originally," Luke explains effortlessly, the rest of the squad nods along in agreement.

"Eating something that looks like a tongue is gross in American culture, Jace," Clary interjects without even looking up from her phone, not bothering to mince her words. Especially not when it comes to Jace. Isabelle told Magnus that she thinks it's because Jace and Clary used to sleep together when she first started. But Luke thinks it's because he's dating Jace's mom, Maryse, so they interact more like siblings, which is also the reason they stopped sleeping together.

Magnus thinks it could be a combination of the two but at the same time, he doesn't really care about the root cause of it, just the amusement that Clary’s no nonsense tolerance for Jace brings.

"Well, beef's tongue is a delicacy in dozens of cultures across the world. Do... better!" Jace huffs dejectedly as if his audience isn't predominantly people of color.

"Sir, I don't think maintenance has picked up the trash in at least a week," Isabelle suggests from her desk on the other side of Simon.

"Yeah, I'd say more like two weeks because I can still see the take out bag from when Sarge and I got chicken teriyaki for breakfast," Maia says from where she’s leaned over to examine her trash bin.

It seems suspicious to Magnus but he reasons to himself that there must just be some confusion with the maintenance department.

"I'll just go talk to maintenance and sort out this mix up then," Magnus announces to the squad.

"Want me to come with you?" Clary asks.

"No, I'll be fine. It's only a couple of floors," Magnus says with a small smile like the idea is touching but odd.

"Okay," Clary responds, already distracted by something else on her phone.

Magnus is the captain of the nine-nine, surely he can get to the bottom of this and get their office cleaned up quickly.

~~~

Not even twenty minutes later finds Magnus back from a short visit down to maintenance. He feels even more confused than when he left to sort the mess out and like he is missing a major piece of the overarching puzzle. Besides being extremely rude to him about the importance and value of not only their time but their job as well, they informed Magnus that cleaning their precinct was on the bottom of their very long list of tasks to accomplish so they will get to it when they get to it.

It definitely felt like a lie though because there were at least three custodial staff sitting in the office, almost like bodyguards to the woman in charge. Magnus must be missing something. He thinks over every bit of their exchange his whole walk back to the nine-nine.

"How'd it go Captain?" Maia asks with a head nod the moment Magnus enters the bullpen.

"Not well..." Magnus admits slowly, still processing what exactly just went down.

"Oh, did they give you a hard time too?" Isabelle's face is sympathetic like she too has experienced the verbal stampede from maintenance.

"That's because you were petitioning for a replacement microwave for the break room," Jace explains.

"A reasonable request! Ours is a death trap that sparks every time you microwave anything for longer than two minutes."

"Which is why we as an office have a strict pink sticky note policy to no longer microwave anything for more than one minute and fifty two seconds in one go," Simon says with a pointed finger as he looks around the bullpen to his fellow detectives, receiving confirming head nods in response.

"I hear you Captain, that's how I feel every time I try to talk to maintenance." Luke redirects the conversation back to Magnus's initial concern.

"Wait, you all knew that maintenance was difficult and you didn't think to warn me?" Magnus feels slightly betrayed.

"I did offer to go with you," Clary states matter of factly which is fair, that should have ticked him off that it was not a solo undertaking.

"Have you had success talking to maintenance?" Magnus asks to Clary who is currently sketching with charcoal in the corner of her desk calendar.

"Don't think I've talked to them before but I've heard everyone else complain about them often enough."

"It's almost like they are angry we only go to them when we need something because they feel unappreciated and secluded from the whole precinct even though they're just two floors down," Luke suggests.

"Ohhh, they're the department that is on the second floor?" Clary looks up from her drawing now.

"Yes..." Magnus responds slowly, confused as to how Clary has interacted with anyone on that floor without realizing they were maintenance.

"The previous captain used to ask me to take a box of muffins from some insanely popular bakery to them every now and then."

"What bakery? The one on the corner of eighth and eleventh? It’s always packed when I try to go in but their scones aren’t as good as the ones from the Brooklyn Biscuit Company," Jace cuts in.

“Damn hipsters,” Maia mutters.

"I don't know... the box was plain and white. He just complained about the hassle of all the people every time he handed the box over to me."

"And you never thought to mention it before now?" Luke even sounds confused about this whole situation.

Clary shrugs before she returns to her sketch. "I just thought Captain McGinnis was poorly flirting with the head of maintenance, not bribing them with baked goods to ensure that the trash was taken out."

Magnus concedes to Clary's point, nodding his head back and forth as he thinks it over. Even with all the evidence pointing in that direction, it would seem a bit far fetched if he hadn't interacted with maintenance only moments before.

"I have a coffee cake muffin recipe that I won a blue ribbon with at the county summer fair for two years running. They are definitely moist enough to be bribery baked goods," Jace suggests, a bit of excitement in his tone about breaking out his baking expertise.

Magnus doesn't really have a plan outside of that one at the present moment so he nods his head in agreement. He points to Jace. "Let's go with that: continue the bribery but with new muffins."

"I'll even double the recipe so everyone can taste them tomorrow before we deliver them." The entire squad enthusiastically nods their head in agreement, always willing to be privy to Jace's baked treats, less so his cooking treats which tend to be a little more... nontraditional. "I wonder if I have all the ingredients... I'll just stop by the bodega in the Bronx to get the good cake flour on the way home to be safe."

Magnus nods his head along even though Jace isn't even paying attention, already making a list of what ingredients he needs. "Sounds good. Now that we have this inconvenience solved, we can all focus on our case loads again. Back to work squad!"

~~~

The next day Magnus finds the nine-nine in even worse condition than he left it in on Tuesday. There is trash literally everywhere. Bags upon bags of trash practically cover the floor of the precinct, not fully blocking any of the walking areas but definitely stacked up around the trash bins. It looks like enough trash bags for the whole building which is the literal opposite of what Magnus had hoped to accomplish with his little… chat yesterday.

He can’t help but sigh in relief at the sight of Jace walking in from the elevator, an honest to god wicker basket with red and white plaid cloth held like precious cargo between his two hands. Magnus never thought there would be a day that he would be both excited and grateful at the sight of Jace, especially not after being his commanding officer for just over eight months.

“You brought the goods?” Magnus asks, pointedly eyeing the basket.

“Of course!” Jace lifts the basket a little higher. “I was going to tweak the recipe a little to add in a new fruit related bit but I thought it would be best for the first time to go with the tried and ribboned recipe. If they approve, I can work on it next time.”

“Good plan.”

Magnus can’t believe this is his life currently. Besides managing cases and his detectives, he now has to add bribing maintenance to his list of expectations for the position. It’s almost too ridiculous of an idea to be true and yet here he is.

“Want me to take them down to maintenance after the morning muffin debrief?

“No!” Magnus says, perhaps a little too quickly as Jace looks confused and taken aback.

Magnus is well aware that Jace has a certain… charm about him but it is one that doesn’t necessarily mesh well with just anyone. The head of maintenance is definitely going to be one of those who does not enjoy Jace’s pouty face with cool kid demeanor when he’s trying to win someone’s favor. Which is why if the nine-nine actually wants their trash to be taken care of in the next year instead of multiplying, it’s best they don’t send Jace.

“I think it’s best if we stick with Clary - they already know her because she’s done it before. She has an appointment this morning but I’m sure she can deliver the muffins before lunch.”

Jace shrugs, walking across the bullpen to place the basket on Clary’s desk. “Sounds good to me.”

~~~

Clary only just left the precinct with the muffin basket in tow when a certain tall person with long limbs, dark hair and pinkish beige skin walks into the bullpen. They raise an eyebrow as Clary passes without a word before their head quickly swivels forward again, eyebrows pulled forward in confusion at the mass accumulation of trash bags. They look up at Magnus sharply, expression slightly amused. “Did you have a party or something?”

“Or something,” Magnus responds, letting a bit of the aggravation over the situation bleed into their voice. “Just a mix up with maintenance, I’m handling it though.”

They extend their hand forward. “I’m not sure if you remember me Captain Bane, but I’m Alec Lightwood.”

In the past couple of months, Alec has taken to coming by the precinct every Wednesday to take his siblings out for lunch. Apparently he has weekly meetings in Brooklyn or something on Wednesday so he uses it as an excuse to see them. Magnus tries not to find it endearing how much the Lightwood siblings care for each other.

Even with those weekly visits the past two months, this is the first time Magnus has shared words with Alec since that day almost a year ago when they chatted briefly outside of the Deputy Commissioner’s officer before each of them had their final interview for the position. The position that ultimately went to Alec.

Something Magnus might not be over just yet.

“I know who you are. Hope you enjoy lunch with your siblings, Deputy Commissioner,” Magnus replies curtly, not even glancing at Alec’s offered hand before turning on his heel to retreat to his back office. He knows he should be more respectful to Alec because he is the Deputy Commissioner but the nine-nine looks like a mess and Magnus doesn’t really have the emotional range to exchange pleasantries with his enemy at the moment. He wants this disaster over and handled so he can focus on more important things like how to get the Vulture to stop taking their nearly complete cases as well as coordinating the nine-nine’s surprise squad attendance to Clary’s art gallery showing that weekend.

~~~

Magnus watches from behind his glass door as Clary returns about twenty minutes later. She’s basketless now which Magnus takes as a good sign. He rises from behind his desk and opens his office door. Clary doesn’t even notice him as she sits down at her own desk, typing away on her phone. He clears his throat, making her jump in surprise. She glares up at him from her phone. “I could have fallen from my chair or dropped my phone!”

Her tone isn’t angry but definitely annoyed. Magnus rolls his eyes, aware that she hasn’t yet put two and two together that he wants an update on the situation. “But you didn’t. So how did it go?”

Clary narrows her eyes for a moment as if thinking over the event herself. “Ok. It could have gone better.”

Magnus raises an eyebrow when she doesn’t immediately continue.

“They said that we’re still late but they’ll get back to us.” She shrugs, “They kept the muffins though.”

Magnus squints, trying to understand what exactly that vague response means. It sounds like there isn’t a whole lot he can do except wait though.

~~~

The next day the extra trash bags have been removed from the precinct floor but their own trash has yet to be removed. It’s a small step but at least it’s in the right direction.

~~~

On Friday the basket and plaid napkin are on Clary’s desk before anyone from the squad appears for work that morning. There is no note but there are no muffins left either. Magnus isn’t positive if this constitutes a response from maintenance or not but their trash remains untouched so Magnus has everyone take out their own trash to the dumpster behind the building before the smell becomes anymore unbearable.

~~~

Tuesday is when hell breaks loose in the precinct for lack of a better analogy. It’s lunch time and Jace is reheating his leftovers in the breakroom when the overhead lights dim slightly and suddenly from the room comes a loud yell, “FUCK!”

Simon and Magnus rush towards the small back breakroom where there is a table, couch, three vending machines, a coffee bean grinder and french press, a broken pool table and the microwave. The microwave that is currently on fire and still sparking where the the plug connects to the box. Magnus grabs the fire extinguisher off the back wall, pulling the tab to break the seal, only slightly confused when it comes off much easier than expected.

Jace runs forward and grabs his precious french press before Magnus can douse everything in fire extinguishing foam. He points the head at the flaming microwave and pulls the handle back but nothing happens. He looks down at the fire extinguisher in concern. He shakes it slightly, hoping to jumpstart the process but nothing happens again.

Simon yells out the door of the breakroom to the bullpen at large, “FIRE!”

Suddenly Maia appears in the doorway with a smaller fire extinguisher at the ready in her hands. Magnus knows the fire extinguisher is too small to be a building mandated one but he doesn’t really have the time to question why Maia has her own personal fire extinguisher when the heat from the flames could cause the glass window that looks out to the bullpen to explode at any second. Luke’s desk is just on the other side of the window, a place they definitely don’t want to fire to spread.

From the doorway, she aims the nozzle at the flames and pulls the handle, releasing a white foam that fully coats the microwave, effectively and immediately dampening the fire. She points the nozzle to the outlet now, pulling the handle for good measure to cover the cord with the foam as well.

She puts down the extinguisher just as Isabelle appears in the doorway too. “I told you that microwave is a death trap! Is everyone alright?”

“Can you get me a plunger please?” Maia asks and Isabelle disappears again.

“I followed the sticky and everything! Mic Waveberg had no reason to betray me like that,” Jace protests as he continues to cuddle his french press close.

“I think it was just his time man - maybe he saw the light,” Simon consoles with a reassuring grip on Jace’s shoulder.

“Or he was sick of hearing your ‘can’t wait to eat’ song you sing while you wait for your food to heat up,” Clary suggests from the doorway where she has just arrived.

“Definitely that,” Maia agrees with a snort.

“At least it’s safe to say that your food is probably, definitely fully heated now,” Simon says with another reassuring squeeze to Jace’s shoulder.

It has the opposite effect though, Jace sags in defeat.

Isabelle reappears, slightly out of breath from her errand as she hands the plunger over to Maia. “Here.”

“Thanks.” Maia takes the plunger and swings at the microwave cord that is still plugged into the wall, successfully yanking it from the outlet. “The fire shouldn’t start again nor should it spread through the electrics now.”

Magnus nods his head in understanding, putting his useless fire extinguisher back on the ground. He takes in the complete shambles that the break room is in now, foam all over the microwave, table, floor, and wall with black scorch marks against the wall and a crack running through the glass. He’s going to have to try to talk to maintenance again. Fuck.

~~~

When Magnus visited maintenance on Tuesday they had listened to his request and story with little response before blandly telling him that he is on the list and they’re doing the best they can, the fastest they can so they’ll get to him when they are able. It’s code for they’re going to continue to take their sweet ass time regardless of what Magnus has to say and the more he complains, the lower he’ll be on the list and the longer it’ll take to get fixed. So about as helpful as the first visit went but a little less hostile. The muffins must have smoothed over some bits but not everything.

Which is why it’s now Wednesday but the trash hasn’t been taken out all week, two ceiling tiles are on the floor, AND there is now caution tape barring the break room window and doorway from entry. Everyone continues on with their work as if their surroundings don’t look to be in complete disarray so Magnus takes it as a small win. This whole fiasco has been really grating lately so Magnus is looking for all the silver linings he can find at this point.

“What happened to your breakroom?”

Magnus turns quickly, startled by the unfamiliar voice from next to him, surprised to see Alec regarding the precinct with a worried expression. Shit. Magnus forgot it was Wednesday which means Lightwood Lunches which means visits from the Deputy Commissioner. One of the last people that Magnus wants to see the messy state the precinct is currently in. He doesn’t want it to reflect on him and his capabilities as a leader, as captain. At the root cause, it isn’t his fault so he goes with the truth, feeling a little worn down over the whole situation.

“Your brother caught the microwave on fire but maintenance hasn’t been by to clean up the charcoaled remains yet.”

“Oh.” Alec’s face becomes contemplative, nodding to himself. “And maintenance was also the reason for all the extra trash last week?”

“Yes. There seems to be a lack of… resources,” Magnus supplies as kindly and simply as he can.

Clary and Luke walk by Magnus and Alec towards the elevators to go out for lunch. Who knew that Wednesdays were family lunch day? Clary adds nonchalantly as she passes, “The floor below us is moving so they’ve been extra annoyed about dealing with that all month.”

Luke turns to her with surprise, “I thought I saw moving boxes on Monday but how do you know that?”

Clary shrugs as though it’s obvious and not the question that everyone in the immediate vicinity also has on their mind. “I have ears everywhere. Always listening.”

Luke squints in disbelief at Clary’s answer, cracking her resolve. She laughs to herself. “I’m kidding. Duncan from maintenance was complaining to me about all the boxes they’ve had to lift lately during their smoke break.”

“But you don’t smoke?” Luke sounds confused.

“I know. I was on an outdoor sketch break.”

“So that’s where you go for ten minutes every couple of hours,” Magnus mutters to himself, having assumed that she was on a smoke break. It makes way more sense now because her teeth are much too white to be those of someone who took that many smoke breaks.

“The handbook says I’m allowed the smoke break - I just don’t smoke during it,” Clary justifies before getting into the elevator with Luke. It’s clever and right up Clary’s alley.

Well the reason for the maintenance department’s sudden moodiness definitely makes more sense now with Clary’s tidbit of information. At least that bit of the mystery is solved but it looks like the actual issue won’t be resolved until whomever is on the third floor fully moves out and the new people move in.

“Well Jace staying up late last Tuesday making coffee cake muffins makes way more sense now.” Alec chuckles to himself. “Only the strongest of the strong aren’t swayed by his baking skills.”

Magnus can’t help the small smile that grows on his lips at the comment. Alec’s voice is fond like he’s personally well aware that he isn’t in that category from growing up alongside Jace and probably being a regular taste tester for his cooking adventures.

“Yeah, except maintenance wasn’t swayed enough for they still haven’t come by the precinct,” Isabelle interjects as she joins them now. “They won’t listen to anyone, not me, Sarge, or even Captain Bane!”

“They still won’t listen to you?” Alec’s eyebrows are pulled forward in concern.

Magnus shrugs as he lets out a deep sigh. He knows it’s ridiculous and he shouldn’t let it get to him but he’s the captain for crying out loud, he should be able to order maintenance to clean up a fire hazard at the very least. “No, every time I try to check in with them about it, they tell me I’m on their list and they’ll get to us when they can.

“That’s rude of them. You’re a commanding officer - a captain. They might not take care of the issue immediately but going over a day could lead to a health hazard.” Alec sounds genuinely worried about their health which is kind of touching but these are all points that Magnus brought up with them already. Magnus is good at his job, good at standing up for the people under his command.

“I know and I told them that. I’m handling it. They said they’ll get to it soon.” Magnus’s pride coming through just a bit as he feels his capabilities as a leader questioned by a superior, especially a straight, white man. Even if that wasn’t Alec’s intent, it’s a gut instinct in Magnus by now from years of being a highly vocal minority in the field.

Something passes over Alec’s face for a moment before he sombers, nodding his head. “Good - let me know if there is anything I can do to help.”

“Thank you for the offer but I’m all set, Deputy Commissioner Lightwood.” Magnus’s voice is a little crisp, just the bare minimum of polite as his walls come up to guard him, securing himself from any potential judgements or attacks of his character.

“Join us for lunch?” Alec asks cautiously.

Magnus may have warmed up to Jace and Isabelle, but Magnus sees the work they do on a daily basis and is working towards bettering them. He doesn’t know Alec and barely tolerates him for the sake of his siblings. Magnus knows that it’s institutionalized racism and homophobia in the interviewing board that probably cost him the position of deputy commissioner but Alec represents all of those people to Magnus, looks like a younger version of literally every one of his previous supervisors so it still stings, making him feel like he’ll never be good enough for the position as long as those same boring, racist, and homophobic people are in power.

“Can’t today - I have my own plans. Thank you for the offer though Deputy Commissioner Lightwood.” Magnus might be lying about his lunch plans though no one but him has to know the truth. Maybe he can text Catarina and bring her lunch at the hospital down the street.

Isabelle and Jace head towards the elevators when Magnus turns down the offer but Alec stays put next to Magnus. Alec nods his head. “Maybe next time then? And please, call me Alec,”

Magnus shares a tight, borderline fake friendly smile, curious about what exactly Alec is trying to get at with both the lunch invitation and first name. It feels like an attempt at a peace offering but one that Magnus refuses to accept right now. “Maybe. Enjoy your lunch Deputy Commissioner Alec.”

To Magnus’s surprise, his smart comment makes Alec chuckle as he shakes his head side to side. He remarks over his shoulder as he leaves to where his siblings are holding the elevator for him, “You too, Captain Bane.”

~~~

When Magnus walks into the precinct at 8:24 am on Thursday morning, the first thing he notices when he steps out of the elevator is that the coffee grind, old banana peel smell that had been permeating for the past week is no longer present. Instead the office smells like… Magnus takes another sniff… smells like freshly used clorox disinfectant wipes and pine sol.

He doesn’t even try to hide the excitement in his wide eyed expression as he basks in the sparkling clean floor, counters, and trash bins. The fallen ceiling tiles and the water stained one near Luke’s desk have been replaced with whiter, newer tiles. Every trash bin is empty except for their liners. The caution tape from around the break room is gone so Magnus heads there next, taking in the black microwave to replace the broken old white one. The soot marks are gone from the wall, foam stains are no longer on the floor, and even the glass in the window has been replaced with a crack free one. Magnus isn’t sure how they managed to change the window overnight but he’s not going to question, not right now.

Right now he’s simply going to breathe in that lemony fresh chemical scent and the feeling that his precinct is finally in order again. It’s wild how big of a difference a clean space makes for him.

Isabelle walks into the bullpen just minutes after Magnus, her face just as eager at the clean surroundings as she heads to her desk. “Oh wow I can finally breathe without feeling like I need a face mask to filter out the gross stuff.”

“Damn Captain, the full cleaning treatment. What did you do or say to move us higher up the list?” Maia remarks, dumping her motorcycle helmet and backpack next to her desk.

That question makes Magnus pause, genuinely unsure of how anything he said yesterday could have influenced this massive change today. Especially when he left, he felt like his visit had knocked them down a couple of places on the list, not up.

“Whatever it is, sir, I hope it keeps us up. I never thought the smell of cleaning products would make me so happy,” Luke says as he puts his bag down next to his desk.

“Damn it, does this mean I don’t get to bake any more muffins? I have some new recipes I wanted to test on them,” Jace mutters as he heads to the break room with his french press that he had relocated to his desk after the microwave incident.

“I don’t think the muffins hurt our case.” Magnus watches Jace’s face visibly perk up as he walks by Magnus into the breakroom. “Maybe we can even make meeting muffins a monthly occurrence.”

Just as Magnus is uttering those words, Clary and Simon enter the bullpen, only a minute late. Simon picks up on what Magnus is saying immediately though, beginning to chant, “Monthly Muffin Meetings! Monthly Muffin Meetings! Monthly Muffin Meetings!”

The whole team joins in effortlessly, Magnus rolls his eyes fondly at the squad. “Jace, give me an estimate for how much the muffins cost you to make and I’ll work with Clary to make sure there is room in our budget to make our monthly muffin meetings a reality.”

The bullpen erupts into enthusiastic exclamations of joy. Simon cheers, “Nine-nine!”

“Nine-nine!” The squad answers back.

The high spirits over a freshly cleaned precinct and monthly baked goods are infectious, making Magnus smile as he mutters under his breath in agreement, “Nine-nine.”

Magnus knows that Simon and Maia don’t need their captain to tag along on their latest call but the last case Magnus helped out on has already wrapped up so he’s itching for something new to solve besides the latest bureaucratic paperwork puzzle. Plus, he’s hoping he can drop a hint about the new memo in front of Isabelle and she’ll eagerly take it off of his hands. Being a captain isn’t solely about paperwork and navigating the latest restrictions from people higher up with cushy jobs that barely remember what it requires or is like to actually be out in the field. It’s also about utilizing resources well which Magnus is great at.

Magnus doesn’t care if this breaking and entering case even ends up being a dead end, he’s grateful for the opportunity to get out of his office for the first time all week. Though, the luxury, recently renovated and gentried apartment complex in Williamsburg looks pretty promising.

The moment Simon, Maia, and Magnus enter the shiny lobby, badges on display, a shorter Mr. Rogers look alike rushes towards them. Before they are within hearing distance, Simon turns his head to the side towards Magnus and Maia, whispering to them, “Bet you their name is Mr. First Name like a true cliche.”

Simon turns around just as the person in question addresses them. “Thank you so much for getting here so quickly detectives.”

“It’s our civil duty. I’m Captain Bane of the nine-nine and these are Detectives Lewis and Roberts,” Magnus greets, gesturing with a hand between Maia and Simon. He asks, curious as to whether or not Simon is right, “And you are?”

“Mr. James, I’m the resident landlord and manager of this apartment complex.”

Maia snorts but attempts to cover it up with a cough. The grin on Simon’s face at his hypothesis being accurate radiates pure joy. Mr. James draws his eyebrows in confusion at their reactions.

Magnus draws their attention back to him, barely keeping his own amusement hidden. “What exactly happened Mr. James?”

“Well about three hours ago three tall burly men in those space movie masks stormed right in here-”

“Which space movie?” Simon interrupts as he and Maia jot down notes.

Mr. James gestures with raised shoulders, “You know, the space movie.”

“There’s actually multiple,” Simon responds. Magnus looks over, raising an eyebrow at the question. “Did the masks have pointed ears or were they furry?”

“Is this really necessary Lewis?” Magnus asks, surprised when Maia and Simon both answer at the same time, “Yes.”

“Answer the question.” Maia repeats, “Were the ears pointed or was the mask furry like a brown, shaggy dog or white and futuristic?”

“Uhhh…” Mr. James stutters for a moment as they think on it, “One of them was definitely dog like, one was silver and spacey and the other was white and spacey.”

Simon and Maia look at each other. “Star Wars.”

Simon looks forward again, “Continue.”

“So as I was saying, they wore Space Wars masks-”

“Star Wars,” Simon interjects quickly. Magnus clears his throat pointedly. “Sorry, minor. Right. Continue.”

“Yeah…” The person eyes Simon warily as if waiting for him to interrupt again. “They went into the apartment of one of my tenants and trashed his place before taking off again.”

“And did they take anything?” Maia prompts.

Mr. James shrugs again. “I don’t know, Sebastian refuses to talk about it. He says nothing happened but I saw them! I saw the three men in… masks with my own two eyes and it’s been decades since I last did psychedelics!!”

“Good to know,” Simon mutters as he finishes up his notes.

“Is Sebastian here now? Can we talk to him?” Maia asks as she closes her notebook, putting it into her back pocket.

“Absolutely, right this way.” Mr. James leads them up the stairs to the second floor, knocking on the door of apartment 2A.

The door opens slightly, revealing the head of someone Simon’s height with short blond hair and pinkish beige skin. One of their eyes is bruised, their lip is split, and they have a long cut along their cheek. Their wounds are actively bleeding, proving that they were made relatively recently. Their whole stance tenses with wide eyes and crossed arms as they take in Magnus, Maia and Simon outside their door. Their voice is pitched low and annoyed as they address Mr. James, “You called the cops? I told you I’m fine.”

Mr. James shakes his head, clearing dismissing that answer and Magnus can understand why. It is clear that they have been in a fight fairly recently and if that occured on the landlord’s property, it’s concerning and bad for business. Mr. James introduces them, “Captain Bane, this is Sebastian Verlac, he’s lived in this apartment building for three years and never caused me an ounce of trouble, not even a late payment or noise complaint. I simply don’t understand why someone would break into his apartment and rough him up.”

Sebastian’s eyes dart from Mr. James to Magnus then Maia, eyeing the badge that hangs on her neck. “I’m. Fine.”

“Clearly you are not,” Mr. James retorts, stubbornness set in every wrinkle on his face. “Just let the detectives look over your apartment and file a report if anything was stolen. For your apartment claim, I have to state that they came by if you want to continue living here.”

Sebastian mulls it over for a second, chewing on his bottom lip. He sounds annoyed and resigned, “Fine. Come in, but nothing happened.”

Magnus’s eyes remain ahead but he can see Simon and Maia exchange a confused glance at Sebastian’s shifty behavior over it all and their presence. Sometimes cops and detectives make people nervous, especially minorities or people with illegal ties, both for good cause.

He opens the door the rest of the way to grant them entry, crossing his arms tightly around himself again. Before even fully entering the apartment, it is obvious that something went down. There is a broken chair, overturned table, seat cushions missing from the couch, and stuff all over the floor like drawers were cleaned out from somewhere. The apartment looks like a wild frat party (without red solo cups) was held the night before or it was thoroughly ransacked.

Magnus works hard to keep his expression as neutral as possible. Out of the corner of his eye, Simon and Maia exchange another glance but with a more wide eyed expression because clearly something happened. The deeper they walk into the apartment, the messier the place is with shards of glass and overturned furniture, making it more obvious that a fight broke out instead of a party that got out of hand. All the broken pieces contrast with the elegant, luxury apartment with its tall ceilings, sleek furniture, and pastel walls. The sort of place that is more likely to have high tea with caviar than a rowdy college kid gathering.

Maia whistles quietly as she takes in the fancy detailed moulding and stainless steel modern appliances in the kitchen. “I clearly need to do whatever this guy does so I can afford a place like this.”

“Whatever it is, I think I could pay off all my loans and debt,” Simon adds, taking notes about the overall destruction of the place.

Magnus notes that it looks like the fight started in the living room after entering the apartment then continued to the kitchen, where there is the most damage. The front door frame, locks, and chain are all in tact which means whomever came in with the Star Wars masks were clearly people that Sebastian knew and willingly let in. It’s suspicious and odd, making Magnus feel as though he is missing a piece to solve the overall puzzle.

Sebastian’s voice calls to them from the front door where he hasn’t left, though Mr. James has, probably to return to the lobby of his apartment complex, “Alright, you’re done. You’ve seen the place and now you can leave.”

“Actually, we have a couple of questions,” Simon retorts as they all head back towards Sebastian, who just rolls his eyes before an angry guard comes up.

“What?” His voice is terse, like he doesn’t have the time nor the patience.

“Did they take anything from the break in? Were they after anything specific?” Maia asks just as bluntly, like the questions are obvious ones.

“No. I told you nothing happened - no break in occurred.”

Magnus pulls his eyebrows down, truly perplexed by these poor excuses. “Well what happened to your apartment then?”

“A party that got a little out of hand.”

“And the bruises and cuts on your face?” Magnus counters.

“I fell. I’m clumsy.”

“Well that’s a classic domestic violence cover up lie,” Simon mutters.

“I said I’m fine. Nothing happened. I’m not pressing charges nor filing a police report because nothing. Happened. ” The last part Sebastian says through gritted teeth, clearly conveying a lack of cooperation or desire for anything to be addressed.

Magnus is not entirely sure of the whole situation but he can tell when his help is not wanted nor needed. He has a feeling Sebastian is trying to protect himself somehow and knows much more about the situation than they do. Magnus nods his head. “Okay. Well thank you and have a good day. Try to be less… rowdy and clumsy in the future.”

Sebastian nods his head back, his posture relaxing a bit. Simon grabs Magnus’s arm as he walks by. “Sir, are we seriously going to just accept his flimsy lies? Clearly something else happened here.”

Magnus shrugs. “He claims nothing happened and isn’t filing a police report - there is nothing more we can do without his cooperation.”

Maia nods her head in agreement as she heads out of the apartment. Simon lingers for a moment. “Hey, I’m not sure what exactly happened or what sort of thing you’re mixed up in but here is my business card in case you change your mind and want to press charges or file a claim.”

Sebastian unwraps his right arm from around his torso, taking the business card in hand. Simon tilts his head slightly, narrowing his eyes on Sebastian’s outstretched hand as he reads the business card over. Simon glances over quickly to Magnus, before looking pointedly back to the stop of Sebastian’s hand, between his thumb and pointer finger, where a small black tattoo is. It looks almost like a pictograph or hieroglyph… But it’s too small and Magnus is too far away to really make out what it is or why Simon is so interested in it.

Sebastian looks back up, making full eye contact as he rips the business card into pieces that add to the litter on his floor. Simon breathes in quickly, clearly hurt by the action. Sebastian’s expression is blank and his voice borderline mocking, “Sorry for making you come all the way here when you’re not needed.”

“It’s our job as detectives,” Simon says with firm passion. He adds quietly under his breath in a dejected tone, “It’s just more exciting when there is a crime for us to solve.”

Sebastian looks slightly perplexed but nonplussed at the vaguely cryptic response. “Okay then. Bye.”

Magnus looks to Sebastian, nodding goodbye on the way out of the apartment, “Sebastian.”

Sebastian doesn’t reply as he shuts the door loudly after them. Simon turns to Maia, “That was like super weird right?”

Maia shrugs. “Kinda I guess. Maybe he’s just real private like those of us that don’t disclose our address or amount of credit card debt at every opportunity.”

“Sounds fake,” Simon says, watching with narrowed eyes as Maia walks down the hall for the entrance again. As Magnus passes Simon, he falls into step. “Come on Captain Bane, you have to agree that whole thing was a little suspicious, I mean right?”

“Even if I did, there is nothing we can do without his consent Detective Lewis,” Magnus replies evenly.

“His hand tattoo is familiar too. I swear I’ve seen it before - I bet you that’s the missing clue to all of this,” Simon mutters while they trudge down the stairs to the first floor.

Mr. James comes over the moment they are in the entryway of the apartment with a hopeful face. Before he can even open his mouth, Magnus raises his hand, palm flat, and says, “Sebastian is not pressing charges nor filing a report but Detective Lewis left his card in case Sebastian changes his mind going forward. It’s the best we can do at this time.”

Mr. James deflates, nodding his head in understanding. “Poor boy - those war stars people probably scared him bad.”

Magnus is surprised that Simon doesn’t even pipe up to correct Mr. James, instead Simon’s brows are furrowed, deep in thought as he tries to rethink each aspect of the case today. Magnus has a sinking feeling that it’s a puzzle Simon won’t just forget about any time soon either.

“NO! NO! NO! PRINCE DON’T DO THIS TO ME NOW! DON’T BETRAY ME LIKE THIS - I NEED THESE COPIES! I NEED YOU!” Isabelle’s aggravated yelling from the copier room can be heard all the way down the hall to the bullpen and Magnus’s office. He looks up from the report he is in the middle of reviewing, looking out into the bullpen at the wide eyed, amused expressions of his detectives at Isabelle’s outburst.

They all know that Isabelle is currently trying to yell and barter with their printer, fondly called Prince by the whole squad, deftly named by Luke (‘because he prints... Get it? Prints? Prince!’). The nicknames for both appliances and people alike are rather catchy and accurate; Magnus finds himself using them without a second thought. They all also know that their beloved Prince has been performing less than stellarly lately with excess ink appearing on copies and paper jams occuring at an alarming rate. They’ve already had the printer technicians visit twice in the past two months and they both said that the printer was on its last legs.

The printer’s career at the department probably rivals Magnus’s for length so it being towards the end of its career makes sense in a way. But Isabelle loves Prince, relies on him for pretty much every aspect of her organizational process. Sometimes Magnus finds Isabelle making copies for Simon’s cases just to make copies. She says the sound and smell of toner sometimes help her when she’s stuck on a case. Prince helps keep her sane and productive. Magnus gets it in a way.

The squad never really planned for what would happen if Isabelle was the one to be there when Prince finally said goodbye. It looks like they’re finding out now.

When no one from the bullpen makes a move from their desk, Magnus realizes it’s up to him to handle the situation as the person in charge. He sighs, rubbing his temple on both sides to prepare himself for whatever may lie ahead in the copier room.

The sight that greets Magnus when he pushes the door open is much less sad than he expected. He lets out a sigh of relief, unsure if he could handle tears right now. Instead, Isabelle sits on the floor, hand gently stroking the blown up Prince symbol print out that covers the printer’s Konica logo. The touch screen printing pad is totally black except for one line of white light through the middle. Not a good sign at all since the on button is flashing green on the side of the printer.

She whispers to Prince, “I’m sorry I removed Kiss from my workout playlist last month.”

“I’m sorry Isabelle, looks like he’s truly gone.”

Isabelle spooks slightly at the sound of Magnus’s voice. She quickly gathers herself up from the floor, wiping off any dust or hole punches that gathered to her black dress pants once she stands. She looks back to the machine with a small smile. “He lived a good life and now his time is up - just like the legend.”

“I’ll see if we can squeeze in a new copier in our budget for this quarter. If not, I’ll apply for emergency funds for next quarter but we might not get another copier for two to three months,” Magnus offers as some sort of condolence.

“That’s fine - I can use the other precincts’ copiers if I really need to.”

There is still a sad tilt to her voice so Magnus valiantly searches his brain for something to say to cheer her up, “We can even name our next copier ‘Prince 2.0’.”

Isabelle quickly turns her head back towards him, her eyebrows narrowed in judgement. “There will only ever be one Prince.”

“True,” Magnus agrees easily. “But you can still be in charge of naming our next copier.”

“Really?! Even though the rest of the squad thinks my nicknames suck because they are too nerdy and obscure?” Isabelle looks genuinely thrilled to be offered such a high honor of naming an inanimate piece of technology.

Which is why even though Magnus knows the squad will groan when they hear, he stands firm in his decision. “Absolutely. You have my word.”

“Yes!” Isabelle does one of her personal, trademark fist pumps and alternating hip and shoulder wiggle. It’s goofy and awkward but somehow fits her and her personality perfectly. It’s extra funny because Magnus has seen her actually dance at Hunter’s Moon to whatever music is playing over the jukebox and she’s really, really good . But the moment there is no music, her dance moves are a whole lot quirkier.

After her mini celebratory dance, it’s like she remembers that she is in front of Magnus, someone that she is always trying to impress so he’ll be her mentor, something she’s been dropping nonstop hints about since he started. She straightens her posture and drops her hands to her sides but the shadow of a smile remains. “Thanks Captain Bane.”

~~~

Sadly, the nine-nine’s budget this quarter had absolutely no room to spend hundreds of dollars on a new copier to replace Prince but before the week is out, Isabelle miraculously finds an obscure government grant that awards money to cover supplies that are mandatory to the success of the department. It is a slight stretch but best case, they win the grant and the worst case is that they don’t. Magnus even dons the honor of completing the grant proposal and deciding which new printer to purchase to Isabelle. The task is one that only Isabelle would get a gleeful joy over, further cementing her claim over the new piece of technology.

The issue is that the printer arrived two days ago without a single instructions booklet, causing an increase in headaches and frustration in the office, instead of decreasing them. No one in the nine-nine can figure out how to change the touchpad language from Korean to English, nevermind how to actually print things. The device is simple enough to use when copying but there is a portion on every sheet that is never printed on and a black ink line, neither of which they can identify the source of. Even Google has proved to be unhelpful in this quest.

It’s a good thing the copier sales people are coming by next week because until then, the copier is one big, shiny paperweight.

On Wednesday night, Magnus only means to stop by the office to pick up his bag, having left it in his office instead of lugging it around the city as he went on a mediocre first date. Quiet cursing draws his attention and curious about who is still at the office at nearly 9pm, he follows the sound to the copier room. Peering in through the windows, he sees no one but the light is on so against all better horror movie judgment, Magnus pushes the door open.

He’s surprised to find someone laying down on their back on the floor. His eyes follow shiny black shoes to long legs in black dress pants to a crisp tucked in white button up that disappears under a pulled out piece of the copier. From where Magnus stands he can’t see their face but he can see rolled up sleeves that expose strong forearms that flex as long fingers, covered in ink, tinker with different gears and pieces of the printer. Magnus wasn’t expecting the service people for at least another week and definitely wasn’t prepared for the sight of such an attractive one either. He’s pretty sure he’s seen office themed porn that starts like this.

From under the copier the voice mutters a harsh, “Fuck.”

“Can I help you with something?” Magnus asks, letting his presence be known as well as his curiosity.

His voice startles the service worker, causing them to bump their head on the pulled out piece of the printer in their haste to sit up. Magnus fails to hold in a chuckle at their expense. His laughter dies suddenly once he realizes that the person in front of him is not a copier service worker but rather Deputy Commissioner Alec Lightwood, whose hair is disheveled with a bright face that is sprinkled with ink blots like black freckles. There is even ink on his white button up shirt. He somehow manages to look even cuter than usual.

Magnus’s eyes go wide in shock at the discovery. “What are you doing here Deputy Commissioner?”

“We’re both off the clock, please call me Alec,” Alec responds, ignoring the question.

“Fine. What the hell are you doing here Alexander?” Magnus reiterates, pushing all formalities aside but still being contrary by calling Alec by his full first name.

Alec gestures to the brand new copier behind him. “Trying to get your new copier to work properly.”

Magnus raises an eyebrow at the obvious answer. “Yes, I can see that but why? This is definitely outside the responsibilities of your job description.”

“Yeah but IT said fixing the copier isn’t in the realm of their job description and the copier people won’t be here for at least a week.” Alec shrugs. “So I thought I should at least try to check it out.”

It’s a better answer but still doesn’t answer the root cause for Alec to be here, it seems an like much too absurd of a task for the Deputy Commissioner to lend a hand to. Magnus can’t help but ask again, “Why?”

“Since I’m kind of part of the reason you guys got the copier, I feel a responsibility towards making it at least work like it should.” Alec looks to his hands, smudging some of the wet ink deeper into his palm with his thumb. “I wanted to make your life a little bit easier not harder. I see all the good you’re doing in this precinct and for other departments, so I wanted to help you keep working your magic.” He glances back up from his unsuccessful attempts to wipe the ink off his hands, a cheeky grin on his face. “Plus, Isabelle has already been kicked out of two other precincts for over using their copiers.”

Magnus has no idea to absorb the honesty in Alec’s words, it’s really sweet that the Deputy Commissioner, someone Magnus views as his enemy, recognizes his hard work and is trying to look out for him. He has an idea that Isabelle and Jace probably play an important role in that too which is why the last comment makes Magnus laugh.

“Alright.” Magnus puts down his bag, unbuttoning his navy police uniform jacket and loosening his maroon necktie. “Let’s try to figure this out.”

Now it’s Alec’s turn to be confused. “What?”

Magnus starts unbuttoning his white button up from his neck down, refusing to get any ink on his brand new shirt. The uniform for captains and higher ups may be bland but it is still a look that Magnus pulls off well so he buys nice, expensive pieces for the look. “Move over, I’m sure they say two heads are better than one for a good reason.”

Once he has the shirt unbuttoned enough, he pulls it up and over his head so he is just in his white tank top. He folds it quickly, putting it down on his bag and hopefully out of the range of the printer’s inking range. There is another bang from next to the copier. Magnus looks up in concern as Alec rubs the back of his head, clearly hitting his head again as he complied with Magnus’s order.

He squints for a moment at Alec, wondering if his clumsiness might actually cause more damage than progress on the copier. Since it’s still in tact and functioning from whatever Alec did previously, Magnus figures there is a slim chance either of them will break it further. And if they do, it’s still within 30 days of purchasing it.

Magnus sits down on the floor next to Alec, looking at the piece of the printer that is pulled out. “So what were you trying to do here?”

“Uhhh…” Alec fills the space as he thinks. “I was… I was trying to find where the jam is on the printer head that is causing the machine not to print properly.”

“Reasonable. And you think it’s in this portion here?”

“I have no clue… that piece just opened the easiest so I started there,” Alec admits with an indifferent shrug.

Magnus hums as he looks at the machine in front of him, genuinely having no clue where to even start searching for the issue. He opens the door next to the open piece and pulls out another larger tray that looks like it has a roller that feeds paper. Seems like an logical place to start.

Magnus lays on his back on the floor to look up at the copier’s extended tray. He’s trying to figure out the flow of paper, the quiet moment stretching between him and Alec until suddenly it’s broken.

“So… you like to work out?” Alec asks nonchalantly.

Magnus tilts his head to the right to get a good look at Alec for a moment, who is looking at Magnus’s arms with something akin to envy. He shakes his head as he refocuses on the task at hand. “Yes, it’s implied in my job description.”

“Most captains don’t fit that requirement though,” Alec retorts, stating the obvious about how the physical aspect of the job is often overlooked or does not apply to all the captains in the precincts. Many of whom Magnus is positive can’t walk a fifteen minute mile never mind run it, the previous captain of the nine-nine included, preferring the safety and lack of physical activity from behind their desk.

“I don’t have that privilege,” Magnus says, emphasizing the clear privilege all those captains have over him: white, straightness. “Looks like you do too.”

It’s a dumb comment for their slightly awkward conversation that Magnus regrets almost the moment those words leave his mouth. He really didn’t mean to let it be known that he noticed the muscles in Alec’s forearms. Magnus is well aware that down this road leads some dangerous territory. Luckily, something catches his eye that gives him a chance to change the conversation before Alec tries to respond. “Hey I think I see a loose piece of plastic in this belt, can you lift the drum carefully and I’ll try to get it out?”

Alec stands up to lean over the tray, pulling up the rubber belt of the drum to give more space for Magnus to reach his fingers in to try to grab the plastic something that is free floating. It takes a couple of tries before he is actually able to get ahold of the black piece with ragged edges. It’s covered in ink, efficiently coating Magnus’s fingers the moment he touches it. He rolls out from under the tray, holding up the piece in triumph to Alec. “Looks like we found the cause!”

Alec smiles back as he takes the piece, turning it over in his hands. “Wonder how it got there... We should test the copier to be sure.”

“Absolutely,” Magnus agrees as he takes a Firefighters equipment magazine from the table next to the reams of paper. He puts it face down on the glass and clicks start. The machine whirls to life and sounds promising for a moment or two until a loud crunch happens and the green on button starts flashing red with the touch screen.

Magnus and Alec exchange a look, fearful that they somehow made the machine worse instead of better. Alec reaches forward, pulling out a tray that makes the noise of crunching and ripping paper in resistance to his movements. “Well at least we know this is where the jam is…”

They both chuckle at the attempt at a silver lining. Alec starts picking out the ripped pieces of paper from the tray, the ink still wet and getting all over his hands. Magnus grabs the recycling bin to bring it closer so he can help Alec with the mess.

It takes them nearly an hour to finally get to the reason why the paper keeps jamming in that part of the run but it’s a fun hour which surprises Magnus. Alec has a dry, quick humor that matches Magnus’s well so their banter is smart and fast, playing off one another and making the time pass quickly. They even talk about Jace and Isabelle, Alec pulling forth some embarrassing memories from their childhood and how their parents reacted when all three of them decided to go for the police academy instead of law school to become a judge like their mom.

Alec’s entire demeanor changes when he talks about his siblings, his voice and expression become fond and soft. It’s obvious just how much he cares about and supports them. It’s really endearing, making Magnus’s heart melt away some of his frigidness towards his clearly one sided enemy.

Once they figure out the jamming issue, the printer is finally able to successfully make legible, full copies. Even though they both have ink covered hands and still can’t print from a computer, they can make copies and that is one huge win for them at this point.

“Well half of our printer problems are fixed now. Thanks for this,” Magnus says with a smile, feeling genuinely grateful for the past hour or so with Alec and his helping hand.

“Good thing a professional is coming next week for the other half. Also, I’m positive if you hadn’t stopped in I would have made the problems worse instead of better...” Alec grins. “Guess you were right: two heads are better than one.”

Magnus laughs, “Well next time you’re in Brooklyn, let me know so I can get you lunch to thank you for helping, both fixing the copier and making sure we got one.”

“Finally gonna take me up on that lunch offer?” Alec’s smile is teasing, almost coy with an eyebrow raised. It’s an annoyingly good look on him.

“No,” Magnus says blandly, watching with triumph as Alec’s smile falters for a second. Magnus smiles cheekily. “I’m treating you to a thank you lunch - completely different.”

“You’re totally right - they’re completely different.”

They hold their serious faces for a full minute before cracking in late night, borderline delusional laughter. Once the fit of laughter passes, Magnus wipes a stray tear from his eye. Alec pauses, wide, happy smile on his face as he looks at Magnus, leaning in. For a split second he thinks Alec is about to kiss Magnus but then Alec’s hand comes up, rubbing gently at the skin next to Magnus’s eye. “You got some…”

Magnus holds his breath for the ten seconds it takes Alec to try to wipe away the ink, not exactly positive as to why. The moment feels too intimate, a big warning sign that Magnus should already be asleep in his bed which was the reason he didn’t go home with his date tonight.

Alec chuckles and from this close, Magnus can almost make out all the different colors in his beautiful hazel eyes. Alec pulls away. “Sorry, I think I made it worse.”

“I guess it’s only fitting since you have ink all over your face too.”

Alec looks surprised. “Wait, really? And you’re only telling me now? Can’t wait to try to scrub all of this off tonight.”

“Yeah I wish us both luck on that front,” Magnus says. Alec picks up his jacket and bag from next to Magnus’s on the floor.

“Well I’ll be seeing you soon for that lunch.” He winks playfully which is cheesy but also endearing in a strange, strange way.

“I’ll see you Deputy Commissioner Lightwood,” Magnus says in a formal voice that is borderline teasing.

Alec’s expression morphs into one of clear offence. “I thought we were past this. You wound me.”

Magnus rolls his eyes. “Good night Alexander.”

A grin breaks out across Alec’s lips, clearly pleased that his dramatics worked. “Night Magnus.”

As Alec leaves, Magnus realizes that maybe he doesn’t hate Alec nearly as much as when the night first started.

That night attempting to fix Dolly (Isabelle’s final decision, named after the first successfully cloned sheep, though the rest of the squad refers to her as Dolly Printon behind Isabelle’s back, keeping in the theme of musicians) completely changes the dynamic between Magnus and Alec. Their thank you lunch was such a success, both lamenting about the upper, upper management roadblocks, that they unofficially start having a bi-weekly standing date to grab lunch together to just talk about work or the news or television or whatever. It’s just lunch but it’s nice and easy, and as long as Magnus doesn’t examine the why behind his excitement when their lunch dates draw near, he’s totally fine.

As Magnus learns more about Alec, the more foolish Mangus feels for ever having considered this man to be his enemy. Sure Alec got the Deputy Commissioner position over Magnus, but it wasn’t really something Alec had control over. And yeah, he’s a straight white man but it’s clear that he’s a good man that cares deeply about doing what he feels is right as well as for his family. He’s also hard working, funny, and being really cute doesn’t hurt either… Shit.

Magnus had been on such a roll of avoiding crushes on straight men until now. Fuck.

Luke and Magnus have only just started discussing their cases closed numbers this past month as well as improvements the team has been making, but Simon has passed by the glass office door at least three times now. Clearly something is up or on his mind, Magnus muses to himself, enjoying watching the impatience oozing from Simon. Whatever it is, it is obviously not critical or extremely important, not even Simon-level important like the time the Oscar Meyer weiner cart was parked on their street, otherwise Simon would have burst into Magnus’s office, mid meeting or not. It’s kind of fun to watch Simon pace.

Once Luke and Magnus’s meeting is over, Luke isn’t even fully out of the office before Simon all but barrels in, pushing a confused and affronted Luke the rest of the way out to close the door. Magnus makes eye contact with Luke outside of the door and both of them shrug at each other in a way that conveys ‘Oh Simon’. Magnus directs his attention to Simon with a raised eyebrow, waiting for him to spit out whatever is eating at him.

“I finally found out why that tattoo is familiar, sir,” Simon says in one breath.

Magnus knows that Simon is so worked up that he forgets Magnus doesn’t have the same amount of context. “What?”

Simon looks back at Magnus with confusion before it clicks for him. “The hand tattoo.” Magnus’s expression remains neutral, needing more details. “The hand tattoo on the guy from the breaking and entering call last week?”

“Oh yes.” Magnus nods his head in understanding, fully up to speed now.

“I thought it could be from something I saw when I was digitizing old case files about a year ago so I went back to that task, working on a new stack as well as skimming the ones I did previously.”

“Wait,” Magnus can’t help but interrupt, a mixture of pride and surprise in his voice as he remarks, “You willingly and unpromptedly did additional paperwork and reporting?”

Simon breaks eye contact, cheeks heating red as he mumbles, “The mindlessness helps me focus... and sometimes I learn new things.”

Magnus hums his approval at being right. “Does Isabelle know that you’re reducing her work load?”

“No!” Simon whips his head back to Magnus. “And she will never know.” Simon lowers his eyebrows in what is surely meant to be an intimidating manner but gives him more of a childish pout. He shakes his head back and forth. “This is besides the point. The tattoo is of a rune that means ‘Angel’, the defining gang tattoo of members of the Clave gang. Wait, are they a gang or a mafia? What makes a group of criminals a gang verse a mafia?” Simon asks out loud, pausing a moment to think about it.

In unison, Magnus and Simon nod to themselves as they answer, “Racism.”

“Anyway, I did some additional digging on the Clave gang and found that pretty much every case we have that involves them from the past five years has been unresolved with mishandled evidence, missing witnesses, or just dead ends. I know you’re familiar with the Clave from your own work on the Circle Mob case.”

“Luke is too… He was undercover for a bit with the Clave before the extreme radicals split to form the Circle Mob and he had to be pulled out of concern for his well being and that of his family.” Simon nods his head in understanding. “It was Luke’s undercover intel that helped me with my case that dismantled the Circle Mob, that and over racist targeting left a clearer trail.”

“Well I think the Sebastian Verlac that we met is actually Jonathan Christopher, known as JC, a high up supplier and dealer for the drug trafficking business of the Clave. All of our drug cases from the past six years mention a JC, but over the past three years his name has tripled in frequency. But he’s kinda a ghost, there is no tie to him anywhere. No public records, no known addresses or aliases, no credit cards or family. Nothing is linked to his name, not even his full name of JC Morgenstern. It’s like he was never born.”

“I know that last name,” Magnus mutters. “Valentine Morgenstern was the leader of the Circle mob and when we killed him the mob disbanded. It was rumored that he had a son but we never saw or could find out more beyond the rumors. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s his kid - continuing the legacy.”

“I think Sebastian is his alias and could be our link to getting closer to the Clave. We could finally find out why the Clave has managed to thrive and escape the authorities for decades. Maybe one day this case will even help dismantle them and help bring justice to all of their unanswered and cold case files.”

Magnus stops, thinking over this with steepled fingers. This could lead to something… something massive. “Okay. I think you bring up good points. We should tail Sebastian over the next day or two to see if he does anything suspicious to solidify your theory, then we can approach him about the breaking and entering and mention that we know why he doesn’t want the police involved.”

Simon does a little fist pump in excitement which seems overly enthusiastic for what they are about to embark on. Magnus’s voice is serious as he adds, “This could be big Detective Lewis, we need to be serious and extremely careful. We need to keep the squad safe in case it unravels the way your hunch suggests, so let’s keep this between us and as secretive as possible - the less people involved for now, the better.”

“Absolutely.” Simon sombers, nodding his head up and down vigorously. He breaks out into an eager grin, “Time for us to… go to church.”

“Good. I’ll even let you choose our undercover squad car from the yard for the mission while I finish up some things,” Magnus remarks, turning his attention back to his computer screen, feeling the mix of apprehension and excitement that always preludes any case that is still in the midst of being solved.

Simon opens the office door, already out in the bullpen when he calls back over his shoulder, “Sounds good, Dad.”

Magnus freezes, turning slowly to look at Simon who seems to have also just realized what he said, frozen in place with wide eyes and pink cheeks. “Do you see me as a father figure Detective Lewis?”

The snickering of the entire squad that heard the slip up jars Simon back to life. He sputters, “What? No! Absolutely not. I clearly see you as a… as a bother figure cause you’re always bothering me… God.”

“Hey! You don’t talk to your father like that,” Luke adds in a stern voice.

Simon’s eyes go even wider, looking between Luke and Magnus before mumbling with an exaggerated eye roll, “Sorry Dads.”

“It’s alright,” Magnus says evenly. “Come get me when you’ve chosen, I should be done with my paperwork by then so we can head out…” The corner of Magnus’s mouth ticks up in a teasing smile, “son.”

~~~

Tailing Sebastian for two days ends up being pretty useless, the only things Magnus discovers are that Simon can fit an absurd amount of cheetos in his mouth at one time as well as sing really well. It doesn’t seem like Sebastian has a real job either, during the day he sleeps in, goes out to eat, shops and returns to his apartment. He’s sort of a boring person to tail if Magnus is being honest. On the last justifiable day of following Sebastian, they finally get some sort of evidence that he could be linked to the Clave: three people enter Sebastian’s apartment that have the same tattoo as him on their right hand. When they exit about an hour later, one of them is now wearing a plain backpack.

When Sebastian leaves his apartment for a late lunch at a diner down the street, they decide to make contact. Magnus and Simon sit at a booth on the other side of a half wall to Sebastian, close enough to talk but not actually sitting with him. He doesn’t even look up from his menu as he asks, “What do you guys want?”

From behind his menu, Simon responds, “We know that whatever was stolen from you was either drugs or illegal firearms which is why you didn’t want to involve the police.”

Magnus watches as Sebastian grips his mug a little tighter, a silent confirmation.

“We just want to know who stole from you and why,” Simon continues, attempting the easier route first.

“I’m not telling you anything. You have no proof and therefore no jurisdiction.” Sebastian’s voice is cutting. “Where I’m from, the way I was brought up is that there is truth in the expression: snitches get stitches.”

“We know where you’re from, who you work for, and who you really are.”

“Oh yeah? So what do you want from me? You can’t take me in. You have nothing on me.” Sebastian sounds smug, aware of his clean record and that nothing actually ties back to him.

“Yeah but with you as a key witness, we could take down the people you work for and the people that came for you.”

Justice and doing the right thing is definitely a far stretch that makes Sebastian shake his head in disbelief. “Dude, I’m just trying to make good money to pay for mountains of medical bills, not change the world.”

Magnus shakes his head side to side, “The healthcare insurance industry in this country truly is an expensive disaster.”

“Don’t I know it,” Sebastian scoffs. “I’m not going to, and I can’t, help you - just leave me alone before you make some bad enemies.”

It’s probably one of the least aggressive threats Magnus has ever received, which is saying something coming from a career industry that is rampant with toxic masculinity, subtle racism, and homophobia, but it makes a shiver run down Magnus’s spine just the same. He can only imagine the sort of people the Clave have working for them these days.

“Well after seeing your black eye and trashed apartment, it doesn’t look like they’re necessarily your friends either. If you ever change your mind, here’s my number,” Simon says as he passes a napkin over the half wall with his number written on it in pen.

Magnus adds, “I can’t promise that we’d change the whole world with your help, but maybe Brooklyn.”

A server approaches Magnus and Simon’s table at that moment to take their order. Simon slams down his menu on the table, “Sorry, can’t eat here. There’s nothing kosher. We gotta go.”

The server is clearly flustered, nodding their head in understanding as they gather the menus from Simon and Magnus. On the way to the front door to leave, Magnus watches Sebastian fold the napkin before putting it in his pocket. Magnus takes it as as good of a sign as they are going to get.

It’s a rare spring like weather day so Magnus is forcing Alec to take advantage of it with him by eating lunch outside for a change. Magnus takes a deep breathe in, enjoying the fresh air that promises they are nearly out of the dreaded cold grasp of winter. Okay so Magnus may sound a little bit dramatic right now but the long, cold, and draining atmosphere of New York winters has that effect on him. The sun seems to be doing Alec some good too, an easy smile on his lips and pink in his cheeks as he bemoans the request that came across his desk today.

“One of the other Brooklyn precincts, I’m not naming which, put in a genuine request for a yogurt fridge. Apparently, it’s the preferred breakfast of the whole squad and their current fridge isn’t equipped to handle the precise temperature and humidity conditions to keep their homemade yogurt stable.” Alec snorts to himself as he takes a sweet potato fry from their shared side. “I couldn’t even make this shit up if I tried.”

“Hipsters,” Magnus says simply as if it explains everything and Alec chuckles again to himself at the reality.

“I know I complain a lot about all the paperwork that comes with this job but it’s cause I just miss solving actual cases, actively helping the community.” Alec goes quiet for a moment and Magnus waits, knowing Alec is just mid thought and not quite finished. “But I know I’m doing good too in this position. Just a different good.”

Magnus nods slowly, Alec’s eyes are focused on the fries as if they hold all the answers to his questions if he can just look hard enough for them. Magnus reaches across the table, gently touching Alec’s forearm to bring him back, trying not to enjoy the casual touch between them that’s become so normal in the past couple of weeks. He looks up, his bright hazel eyes making eye contact with Magnus.

“You are doing good,” Magnus reassures, pleased when the corner of Alec’s lips twitch up slightly. “I mean who else is qualified enough to be the Deputy Commissioner and reject precincts requests for yogurt fridges, knowing well that they could just use a wine fridge that costs a third of the price.”

Magnus’s joke breaks the intense moment between them as Alec leans forward, laughing with his whole chest as Magnus’s joke. He can’t help but grin at himself for the response that he pulled from Alec.

“It really is a glorified wine fridge. Wow.” Alec sobers, eyes still playful as he remains leaning over the table. “Let me live vicariously through you Magnus, tell me about one of your recent cases.”

“Well… I can’t share too much but… I’m working with Simon on this case that I think is going to unravel to become something really big.” Magnus speaks slowly, pretending to look disinterested as he stirs the straw of his drink around. “Though, whatever you did to screw over your ex is not helping our case count. The Vulture keeps swooping in and stealing cases from the department, but especially Jace and Isabelle. I’m worried she’s going to take Simon and I’s case.”

“She? Wait, what are you talking about?” Alec asks, face pulled down in confusion.

“Your ex - the Vulture.” Magnus says, gesturing with his hand like Alec should just know which of his exes the nine-nine’s internal nickname is for. “The whole squad calls her the Vulture… what is her name… L… Lydia… oh Lydia Branwell from Special Crimes Division!” Magnus accidentally exclaims, proud of himself for remembering her name at all. It’s been so long since he said her actual name instead of the Vulture.

Alec throws his head back against the back of the chair as he groans.

Magnus laughs at the response. “Do you remember her now?”

Alec lifts his head back up to look at Magnus. “She’s not my ex. She’s just mad because she thought we were dating for a couple of months while we were at the academy together whereas I just thought we were friends. She may be holding a grudge because she didn’t like it when I finally set her… straight.”

Alec laughs to himself whereas Magnus is terribly confused. That seems like a major difference for two adults to be having: dating vs friends. “How did that even happen?”

“Well I’m gay so I knew we weren’t dating,” Alec responds matter of factly. “But according to her, I’m not flamboyant enough to be gay. She didn’t like when I called her homophobic for that remark either.”

“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense,” Magnus says, trying to sound calm and casual and not act like his whole world view is tilting because Alec is gay. Alec is gay. Whew, that is a weight off of Magnus’s chest about his whole growing crush on a straight white boy thing. His six plus year streak of not crushing on a straight man is back in tack. And Magnus does not want to examine the relief any deeper than the superficial aspect, doesn’t want to start thinking something ludicrous like he might actually have a chance with Alec now. Nope. Magnus isn’t going to go there right now. Though, the whole enemies to friends to lovers is an underutilized trope his brains whispers like the true traitor it is.

Suddenly, Magnus’s phone starts ringing on the table. He glances at it, reading Sergeant Garroway across the screen. “Bye.”

“What? Okay?” Alec looks slightly hurt at the sudden and swift change by Magnus.

It makes Magnus feel guilty about suddenly bailing on Alec after he revealed his sexuality when it’s actually not correlated in the slightest, just poor timing. Magnus has a feeling the call is important. Luke only calls during meal times when he has an emergency. “I’m bi myself - like bisexual but I also have to take this call so bye! Sorry for leaving so suddenly, I have a feeling this call is about my big case.”

The confusion on Alec’s face blooms into a small smile at Magnus’s explanation. “I know. Thanks for having lunch and talking with me. I’ll see you soon Magnus and be careful, especially if the case winds up as big as you think it will.”

Magnus smirks. “I always am careful, Alexander.”