Chapter Text
2045
...
Nile is in her office, figuratively neck deep in giving feedback, when a familiar cloud of brown curls pokes through the doorway.
"Boss, Joe is here with lunch for you," Lila says. "Promise me you'll actually stop assessing long enough to eat it."
"Absolutely no promises," Nile says, pushing her (purely decorative) glasses up on her face. "Send him in, and we'll see if his offering is worth pausing for."
"Whatever you say, boss." Lila disappears, and Nile turns her attention back to her tablet.
"Dr. Hughes, you must rest," Joe says from the doorway, resplendent as always in bomber jacket and shades. "The graduate assistants tell me you've been grading all morning. A woman cannot live on coffee and commentary alone, habibi."
"I can try." Nile winks. "Close the door, or the graduate students will eavesdrop."
Joe closes and locks the door behind him. Nile doesn't relax until the old deadbolt clanks into place. She turns up her music to be safe.
"I hate having to wear a persona, even one as familiar as this one," she says quietly. "Now, what did you bring me?"
"A cheesesteak sandwich from that place you like near Nicky's office." Joe holds it just out of reach. "Hand me the tablet and you can have the sandwich."
"Fine, but I'm not happy about it." Nile hands him her tablet and takes the greasy bag with greedy hands. "You are an angel among men."
"You just like that I brought you grease and carbs."
"That too." Nile doesn't realize how hungry she is until the first bite hits her palate. "Mmph, thafs goof."
"Good, I'm glad." Joe sits in his favorite chair, tucked in the corner of her tiny office among Nile's pile of art books.
(She's stubborn about keeping the physical ones, old-fashioned in her love for the paper copies.)
"So, what brings you to my humble cave of academia?" Nile asks between bites. "I thought we were debriefing over dinner."
"That's still the plan, but I've had an update that will affect things long-term. I didn't want to spring it on you later. This way you have time to process."
Nile raises her eyebrows almost to the edge of her bleached buzz cut.
"Don't tell me... you're dying," Nile says dryly.
"Not yet, but probably. Copley and Andy are pulling Nicky and I from the case as soon as possible to go handle a crime lord who has popped up in Monaco. It's a two-person job, and they don't want Quynh going in without immortal backup."
"And Booker isn't up for going back into the field yet," Nile continues, nodding thoughtfully. "Is Quynh coming here?"
"See, that's the thing." Joe steeples his hands in front of his face, one of the million gestures he and Nicky share. "Copley and Andy are thinking it's time to put Booker back in rotation. It's been five years since he came out of his banishment, and this would be a low-impact first mission."
Nile chews a few more bites while she processes the information.
"So you two are going to handle a crime lord, and Booker is coming here to run backup for my mission?"
"Exactly. Only if you're comfortable with it, of course," Joe says quickly. "If not, Quynh will replace us."
Nile chews, swallows.
Booker has been back in good graces for five years now. Does she really trust him to be the only one at her back?
"Fuck it, why not. Might as well make his first mission an easy one."
...
For the rest of the day, Nile's brain whirls at the idea of Booker running her op, distracting her even as she gives a lecture for an auditorium full of first year art students. Usually, there's no joy like watching the babies learn, but she just isn't having it today.
"We'll end it there. Please remember to do the discussion post for this week. Respond to at least two other people while using at least two brain cells." Nile slides her tablet into her bag. "If I see one more response that says 'I really like how you said a thing' without adding anything, I'm throwing someone out a window. You're dismissed, I'll see you on Thursday."
A few of her more eager students hang back to talk, but eventually Nile makes it out to the parking garage in peace. She takes a moment to breathe and text Nicky.
To Nicky: Had some hangers-on, leaving school now.
Nicky, bless him, has a glass of wine waiting when she steps into their apartment.
"Welcome, cara mia." Nicky kisses her cheek. "The others are already here, but we did not start without you."
Sure enough, the screen at the end of the dining table has everyone's video call box up.
"Hi everyone." Nile can't help her grin. It's been weeks since they were all on the same call.
She takes a moment to take stock of everyone's situation.
Quynh and Andy are sitting curled up in Andy's recliner at their safe house in Trà Vin. Andy's silver-gray hair stands out against the inky black of Quynh's. Copley's video feed is bright and sunny, so he must be at one of the west coast safe houses. Booker is on a phone instead of a computer, his feed lagging, streetlights flashing over his face as the car moves through some city.
Joe takes Nile's jacket and pulls out her chair as Nicky places dinner on the table. Nicky made all of Nile's favorite comfort foods, even though he doesn't like American mac and cheese the way she does. Nile feels very loved.
"It's good to see you, Nile," Copley says first. "I know you've been busy."
"Never too busy for you, James, and not just because you have access to all my bank information," Nile jokes. "Andy, how's the hip?"
"Cantankerous, just like she is," Quynh says before Andy can answer. "Healing nicely, though."
"I still can't believe I needed a replacement," Andy gripes.
"That's what you get for continuing to act unbreakable for twenty years after becoming mortal, nhà em," Quynh teases.
Andy just kisses her, smiling.
"I'm glad you're healing," Nile says. "Just remember, it could be worse. The surgery is way less invasive than when my grandma needed it back in the day."
"The wonders of modern technology," Joe says between bites of macaroni and cheese. "Booker, are you on the way to the airport?"
"Yes, I'll be there in half an hour," Booker says. "I'll be at your apartment by noon tomorrow, barring any inevitable obstacles."
"And you're sure you're comfortable with this job?" Copley asks. Nile can tell by his tone he's asked a dozen times already. "I can send Quynh, even if Andy will complain about being grounded for the five millionth time."
"Don't call me old." Andy flips off the camera and curses at Copley in some dead language, and Copley laughs.
"I'm not calling you old, Andromache," Copley says. "One cannot argue the facts.. Physically, we're both old mortals."
"Yes, I'm comfortable taking this job," Booker says before the familiar argument continues. "I'd rather get back out into the field on an undercover job than a physical combat operation."
"Good, that's great." The video call boxes shift to the top of the screen as Copley takes over presenting. "For the sake of the group, let's rehash what Nile is doing."
"I'm Dr. Morgan Hughes, adjunct faculty of Fine Arts, specializing in 19th century African art history," Nile rattles off in a practiced air. "I'm teaching primarily intro visual arts and art history classes."
"While Dr. Hughes is working on her research, she's also working on investigating some funds that have consistently been going missing, along with some forgeries that have been repatriated from the collection while the real art stays on campus." James pulls up examples. "The goal is to make sure all of the real art returns to its culture of origin."
"Our contact is a lawyer out of Johannesburg," Nile adds. "Dr. Pulane Nkosi represents several cultures and tribes in Sub-Saharan Africa who have been defrauded by the school."
"We're going to be bringing people's ancestors home," Joe says firmly. " They have suffered enough. This is not a job we can afford to botch."
"How long have you been undercover?" Booker asks.
"Six months. I started teaching summer classes. I got a real office at the start of the semester." Nile grins. "There's talk of hiring Dr. Hughes on tenure track when one of the others retires."
"We're very proud of you," Andy says. "Both for maintaining your cover and for your academic success."
"Joe and I have been combing through their books and communications, building a file on leads to follow. This fraud runs deep." Nicky shakes his head. "Private colleges can be so corrupt. So much money traveling where it shouldn't."
"You'll take over our work and our apartment here," Joe tells Booker. "You'll also cover Nile as the mission shifts to more active research on her part in the next few months."
"I can do that," Booker says firmly. "I have your back."
The others may be concerned about him rejoining them on active duty, but Nile trusts him.
"I know."