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** Set after Tall Tales (season 2, episode 15) **
Amity Seward looked up from her desk when the alarm started pinging to find that the Large Scale Illusory Magics detector was lit up. Again. It was centered on Springfield University. Again. In the middle of the night, when she was the only one on duty. Again. This case was getting irksome.
The first time it had gone off one of the professors had taken a nose dive out of a fourth floor window. Given the local lore, she had kicked it over to the Specter Containment Unit, but they came up empty-handed and it landed back on her desk as a possible mimic or prank-gone-wrong. While she was easily able to determine that the good professor was a rotten apple, she could not determine just who had decided to weed him out.
The second time that the alarm had been triggered, one of the local bullies had claimed to have been abducted by aliens. He did not show signs of mind tampering or residual pharma, but she did note an unusual energy signature lingering on him. After she had successfully dispelled it, he seemed to do better, as if it had been keeping him from properly moving beyond the trauma. Somewhat malicious, and the strange magical signature on both situations matched, lending credence to the overdone-pranks theory.
The last time that the alarm had sounded she had been on her dinner break and by the time she had arrived on the scene it was to find the local authorities picking up the remaining bits of the last victim by the sewer grating. Amity had promptly lost her dinner and her patience for this deadly prankster. The scene being as… er… fresh as it was proved to also reveal more of the mysterious energy residue and she had spent the last few days working on a way to contain it. Given its unique properties she was also starting to think that her perp was an un-registered magic user from the old countries or perhaps an ancient-artifact-wielding mundane. People could get up to all sorts of mischief messing about with enchanted items, especially if they weren’t truly convinced that it worked.
This time, though, she was ready: her field kit was packed and waiting so when the alarm started blaring she snatched it up, noted the coordinates of the epicenter, turned on the spot and was gone.
---
Crawford Hall was quiet, but the device in Amity’s hand showed massive illusory magic usage, as well as transmutative… and conjorative…?
“What the hell?” she huffed, tapping on the pad’s display. That power needed to create that kind of combination was freaking huge, even mundanes should have some kind of visceral reaction to the energy in the air, but she could not feel anything. Whatever was causing this was self-shielding. Pocketing the data pad, she drew her wand and quickly cast several containment and anti-transport wards over the building and the green.
As she was creeping closer and trying how best to approach the situation three figures came rushing out of the front door and headed toward the lone car in the parking lot. Swiftly retrieving her device, she noted that all three were mundanes, although two of them showed traces of… something… but the big magics were still happening inside of the building which was only showing one life sign. Pocketing it again, she shot four quick trackers toward the three men and the car – she would follow up with them later – and then stowed her wand back in its sheath on her forearm. Since her clothing and gear were passably mundane, she decided on the direct approach and began walking purposefully up the walkway toward the main entrance as the car pealed out of the lot.
The building was rather dark inside, but she tapped a rune that had been micro-etched on the earpiece of her glasses and it triggered a low-level mage-sight enchantment which showed her the route taken by the men who had just fled the hall. Cautiously she followed the trail and pushed open the door to the auditorium.
“Hello?” she called, stepping through the entrance and looking around. The enchantment on her glasses showed her the ghosted images of the dispelled conjurations that had been alive and kicking moments before. She stood, rooted do a spot halfway down the aisle, as they mimed out the fight that had raged most likely against the men that she had seen leaving. This was worrisome. A prank was one thing, but a flat out fight with a chainsaw wielding monster was attempted murder plain and simple.
---
Still in his janitor disguise, the Trickster stood a little ways up the aisle and observed the new intruder. Details were noted and catalogued in a clinical fashion: female; mid-to-late twenties; average build; brown hair pulled back in a twist; dark colored pant suit and sensible shoes; briefcase/messenger bag favored by the younger faculty… all in all an unremarkable figure that could easily be lost in a crowd. Except that he had felt the energy nets go up while he was dealing with the hunters and he detected a familiar hum of power radiating from her as soon as she had walked in the door.
As much as it pained him to show his hand too early, if there was a new player interested in the Winchester brothers, he might have to take steps. Of course, a smirk formed at the corner of his lips, he could still have a bit of fun with it.
---
“Can I help you?” a masculine voice half-whispered in her ear.
“Ah!” she yelped, dropping and spinning around to face the threat. Her hand automatically strayed to the sheath holding her focus before popping up to rip the glasses from her face. “Owww…”
---
Throwing people for a loop is one of the easiest ways to discover their secrets and it was perfect payback for someone that had managed to sneak up on him. He noted her combat reflexes and instinct to reach for a concealed weapon: arm sheath – unexpected and a good choice. More troubling was when she got her first look at him and reached for her eyes in pain. Was she one of those rare individuals who could see his true form? Shit.
---
Amity thought she was going blind for a moment. The figure above her on the incline was lit up like a beacon even though the mage-sight enchantment was on the lowest setting. The aura of power was so strong that it almost seemed to sweep back from him like a cape that fluttered in a phantom breeze. All of this, in the one split second before she could blink and turn her head, seemed seared into her retinas like the after image of a camera flash.
Snatching the glasses from her face, she started blinking rapidly to try and clear her vision. Discretely tapping the “off” rune, she folded the specs and slipped them into her blazer pocket, taking a moment to smooth her clothes before half-turning back to the silent figure.
“I’m sorry. You startled me, Mr…?”
As her vision cleared she could make out a man in a jumpsuit worn by the janitorial staff. He was frowning as he looked at her and did not respond to her unspoken question. She could still see the aura ghosting around him – it almost seemed to be twitching in agitation. Given the extent of the power she caught in the display, the source of her large-scale magics was a person, not at thing, and he was standing right in front of her. Hopefully being up front about her intentions would calm him somewhat.
“I am SSA Seward and I am looking for someone.” Straightening a bit more, she pulled out her mundane ID wallet and flipped it open. “Do you mind answering a few questions?”
--
“Senior Special Agent Seward?” he repeated, relaxing and reaching for the badge. She was no angel or demon, but that persistent hum was familiar. Probably a hidden amulet or weapon: a hunter, then. What was it with hunters and their fake IDs?
She nodded, so he decided to probe the edges of her commitment to the story. “What exactly is it that you do for the bureau, SSA Seward?”
Sensing that he probably would not tolerate too much embellishment, she cleared her throat and gave him a half smile. “I belong to a special division based out of the main office that investigates aberrant phenomena which the mundane offices are unequipped to handle. We also provide federal support to local magoi law enforcement as well as enforce the Statute of Secrecy as defined by the sitting body of the International Confederation of Wizards.”
--
Huh.
That was a new one.
He looked down at the badge and noticed it shimmer and morph into a different form. “Amity Seward, Senior Special Agent, Ohio Office – Magoi Services.”
The picture was moving.
He stared at it for a moment before handing it back to her and summoned a chocolate bar. She didn’t bat an eye.
“And what brings you here, Senior Special Agent Amity Seward?” he flopped back into an overstuffed armchair that appeared just in time to catch him.
“You, I imagine,” she huffed, perching on the arm rest of the nearest row of theater seats and pulling a device from her pocket. “We have been tracking some large-scale illusory magics of a malicious nature that have been setting off sensors in highly mundane places. Given that the SoS demands such things be kept hidden from the mundanes, we were concerned that there was an artifact or rogue element on the loose. I am of the opinion now that it is neither option.”
She lifted the device and waved it a bit before tapping at the screen and frowning thoughtfully. “I just need to see your ID and registration or VISA paperwork and ask you a few questions.”
Gabriel laughed, “I think this is the first time I’ve ever been carded.” He dug a wallet out of his back pocket and fished out a local driver’s license to hand to her.
Amity glanced at it, raised an eyebrow, and set it on the tablet as she continued tapping on it. “This is blank,” she observed.
“Is it now?” he crooked an eyebrow and began licking the melted chocolate off of his fingers. He noticed her posture shift subtly as if annoyed and smirked; drawing out his actions in an effort to see how much he could push her before she cracked.
“Psychic paper?” she murmured in surprise.
“For lack of a better term,” he shrugged.
“You are aware of the illegal nature of this artifact?”
“Who says it’s illegal?” He tilted his head and for a split second she was reminded of her four year old nephew when he was trying to puzzle something out. Her hands stilled and she turned to fully face him.
“You honestly have no idea?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die.”
“Would you allow me to perform a medical scan on you here, or would you prefer that it be done by a professional in a hospital setting?”
“Why do you want to know that?” he sounded exasperated at the topic change.
“You, sir, are a magic user exhibiting a powerful aura and a high degree of control of its use, who claims to not know about the legal regulations concerning magic in this country. Your abilities are too precise to be self-taught and if you were apprenticed somewhere you would most certainly have been given at least a cursory overview of both local and international law. I am concerned that you may have been cursed or concussed.”
Gabriel was impressed by the depth of her commitment to her cover story, but he still wanted to determine her interest in the Winchesters before he showed his hand, so he just shrugged.
“Umm…okay.” She punched up the missing persons database on the tablet and set it to run cross-reference on the data previously collected. “Can I get some basic info from you at least, so that I know where to start?” He didn’t object, so she continued. “Name?”
“Mmm… nope.”
“Odd name. Age?”
“Also nope.”
“Proof of citizenship, naturalization, or entry visa?”
“Nada.”
“How am I supposed to verify your identity without any information to go on?”
Ah. There was the crack. He suppressed a smirk. “Names have power, you know. I don’t just give mine out willy-nilly.” He waved vaguely and went back to licking his fingers suggestively.
“I gave you mine.”
“And I shall treasure it always. Ammmity. Sewwwarrrd.” He rolled the name around in his mouth like a hard candy and she shivered inexplicably. “That wasn’t a very smart thing to do Amity; putting your real name on your fake ID…” he smiled mischievously as she fought to suppress the little tremors running through her torso. “You gave me power over you before we even got to the fun part of the hunt.”
He sat forward in his squishy chair and eyed the woman who was more focused on controlling her breathing than paying attention to his words. “Though, I will enjoy the rest of this, I doubt you will. You should have been more careful in choosing your hunts, because you are in way over your head here, little girl.”
“H… hunt?” she stammered, still trying to figure out why her body was misbehaving.
“Oh, please. I can see right through your little act. While your cover was one of the more interesting I’ve heard, it is just a tad too ridiculous to be believable. You aren’t the first person to track me down, and you defiantly won’t be the last.
“What I want to know is why you’ve been poking around here. Were you following the Brothers Grim and thought you could take me on when they failed? Hmm?” He vanished her sleeve to reveal the arm holster and pulled the stick from its sheath. “Your research is lacking if you think stabbing me with this will have any effect on me.”
The fear in her eyes as she followed the movements of the stick twirling in his fingers was gratifying. But he could feel something pulsing in his hand, so he held it up to examine it better: holly wood with an aura of –-unicorn? He pushed a bit of grace at it and the end sparked like a firework display.
Huh.
“Or is this little prop supposed to back up your ‘witch persona’?” He made finger quotes around the stick in his hand. “Where did you get this from, anyway?”
She struggled to answer, but he ignored her and tapped his chin thoughtfully with the stick.
“Now. How to dispose of you? Something appropriate… ah!” he snapped his fingers and suddenly they were out on the green and she was tied to a stake. Amity’s eyes widened as she caught an acrid, smoky smell and heard him cackle with glee. “You want to play with fire, do you? How about this? Tell me to my face that you are a witch when I can tell plain as day that your soul is fully intact? Liar, liar, pants on fire. Literally!” he giggled at his puns.
“D… d…”
“What’s that?” he cupped his ear.
“… d…”
“Can’t quite make it out, dear; you’ll have to speak up.”
“… d… DAMAZDO,” she managed to screech and he felt a cool wave of – something - evaporate his little scene and shove him back several feet.
“Wha—” and suddenly he was the one that couldn’t move while she was standing there in a blaze of righteous fury, glaring at him while she gulped down fresh air.
“Now you listen to me, Asshole. You have just assaulted a Federal Agent and that is a pretty big deal no matter where you are from.” She snatched the stick and with a wave they were back in the auditorium. “You have also proved to me conclusively that you are both the cause of the large-scale magics AND a menace to society; which leaves me with no choice but to bring you down to the station. Yet, somehow I don’t think that will go over well for anyone involved. So. We are going to sit here and have a rational discussion like the calm, rational, adult-type people that I am and that you can pretend to be and we are going to come to an agreement as per the Old Ways regarding what you can and cannot do in this country. Is that understood?”
He nodded.
“Agreed?”
He nodded again.
“Say it.”
She learned fast, this one. Gabriel cleared his throat, “I promise to pretend to be a calm, rational adult for the purposes of this conversation.”
“You will stick to whatever agreement we come to?”
“I will abide by the accords we create.”
“No harming each other?”
“I will not defile the negotiation table with violence,” he huffed, clearly offended by the thought.
A small flash lit the tip of the stick that she was holding aggressively. “Thrice said,” she murmured, and she relaxed enough to let him move again.
+++
“He calls himself Loki, sir; claims to be an Old World trickster god.” Amity slid a printout of the readings from her data pad across the table to the disciplinary panel. “Given these readings, I thought it best to go along with that premise. We do not have enough Mages to field the power needed to force his compliance, or that of any other being like him, but if he holds to the Old Ways, he will abide by the accords that we hammered out.” She submitted another set of pages outlining the agreement.
“And why should we be bound by this agreement, Miss Seward? You are not a trained negotiator, not are you possessing the authority needed to craft such an accord with a hostile power.”
“As the only agent on scene, I was invested with the necessary authority to deal with the situation to the best of my ability, sir. If the bureau does not honor this agreement, the bureau will never be able to contain him in any manner in the future. With all due respect, sir, oath breakers are not held in high regard in the circles he hails from…”
One of the men across from her coughed uncomfortably and the one in the middle pursed his lips. “You may go now, Miss Seward. We will discuss this matter and you will be informed of our decision in due time.”
Amity sighed and nodded before vacating the room with as much dignity as she could salvage. The council barely waited for the door to close before they began grumbling in agitation and gesturing toward her seat in anger.
In the corner a man stood unnoticed, twirling a sucker between his teeth. Humans were so predictable. You find one that was worth the trouble, and a handful comes by to break your brand new toys. Oh well.
He ported up a couple of floors and flopped in the large leather chair behind a rather large desk. A moment later, the door opened to reveal a man in an expensive suit giving instructions to what looked to be his PA before she closed the door on her way out. The man stopped short at the sight of a stranger lounging behind his desk.
“Er… heh-how did you get in here?”
“Silas, is it?” Gabriel murmured, playing with the fancy name plaque.
“Yes. That’s my name. And that’s my desk, so why are you sitting in it?”
“To the point, I see.” He tossed the plaque behind him negligently. “Good. I’m not in the mood for games right now, Silas Greenbriar.” The man squawked a bit as he realized that he couldn’t move or call for help. “I want to talk about one of your agents. Well, several of them, actually. I’m not all that thrilled about what is going on in your offices here, Silas Greenbriar. Has the honor of men fallen so low that they will not follow the Accords? Shall I inform my brethren that we are now free to do as we wish? The world was not so hospitable to men before we agreed to restrain ourselves, you know…”
Gabriel let his grace flow a bit more freely in order to give the man a taste of the power at his command. Silas’ eyes widened and he gasped as though he couldn’t take a full breath.
“Ah. So you do know. Good.” He scaled back a little so the man could breathe again.
Gabriel stood and walked fluidly across the office toward his captive audience; it was a predatory gait and the man’s eyes spiked with fear again. “Now. I have an accord with one of your lesser agents, made in good faith and honestly quite fair to you people. However! Some of your middling agents are right this moment in the process of refuting our agreement and setting her aside for discipline. This is bad faith on your part and it’s best to nip things like that in the bud, don’t you think? Yes? Splendid.”
Leaning forward, he slipped something into Silas’ breast pocket and patted it. “Here’s her card. You should get right on that. Make sure she gets all the credit she is due. If I have to come back here and ‘re-negotiate’ with any of your ‘experts,’ I will not be nearly as generous with them as I was with her. Capice?”
Silas nodded and found that he could speak again.
“I’ll have your word on that, sir. Your pardon if I do not take your nod for it.”
“I Silas Greenbriar do swear that I will see that the agreement made between you and my agent is upheld and she is given all due credit for her actions taken this past week.”
Gabriel leaned forward and patted the man’s cheek. “That’ll do, Donkey,” he said in a bad Scottish accent.
Silas clamped his eyes shut as a blinding light filled the room and when he was able to open them again, the strange man was gone. Gingerly testing his limbs to see if he could move again, he threw himself at the door and yanked it open.
“Brenda! Get me all of those asshats on the disciplinary committee downstairs. I want them on my rug in five minutes with everything they’ve got on—,” he paused to pull the business card out of his breast pocket, “the Amity Seward situation. And get me a line to whoever it is we have liaising with Homeland Security!”