Why Don't You And I?, A Mirrorverse Tale

C/N: Short, yes but I'm still setting up this little bit of insanity.

Anything You Can Do (The Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Ain’t Dead Yet Remix)

The Dramatic Black Cloak Agents did not, by and by large, look as terrifying as rumor would have them to be. The three young women in the library, for instance, did not look terrifying.

The library itself was every bookworm’s dream, dark wooden shelves over various sizes and shapes filled with books, the high colored glass on a second floor that opened above the first-floor computer catalogue. The noise was usually music drifting in from the office, reflecting on the current occupant’s musical tastes. Currently, however, it was a game of questions, as first shown in Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead.

“Is that all you got?” Tara asked boredly. The weather witch was the tallest of the three, with a hedgehog in her medium brown hair, lounging in a secondhand Laz-y-boy armchair.

“O, doesn’t the swan swim so bonny, oh?” Elaine asked wickedly. The shortest of the group, she was dressed in a mixture of punk and artsy, with a grey peasant blouse and black pinstripe capris, rainbow stocking poking out from her perch on the back of an overstuffed plaid couch, pink tips in her hair. There was also, incongruously, a wooden stick in her clipped up hair.

“Was that a threat?” Tara asked.

“Do I threaten you?” Elaine dropped onto the couch, propped her head on her hands, and fluttered her eyes.

“Did you just use a mangled Twilight quote?” Tara asked, choking on her laughter.

“Does that mean I won?” Elaine asked hopefully to the youngest.

“…Yes,” Ari said, blinking. “By a mile.” She was sitting lotus position on the other end of the couch, her dark hair bound in a braid. A copy of Mansfield Park was sitting on her lap, and a light blue mug of coffee was on the table.

~

Albus Dumbledore sighed in relief. He had finally managed to wear down a way to the universe the Potters were hiding in, thanks to bothering Lorena Longshot in Cardiff until she finally agreed, eight months later. Now he was in this universe’s New York City, in the nicer outskirts of the Theater District.

Now to actually find the Potters, and explain the Prophecy to them. He wasn’t entirely sure which would be more difficult. New York City was a large place, this was true, but Lily Potter would not be pleased to hear this news at all.

Then he saw the sign, and shook his head. “What they lack in subtlety, they make up for in sheer cheek…”

The sign was a bit weatherbeaten, with the line- Rogue Spooky Mauradering Your Home? Fight Fire With Fire, Call the Abhorsens! The photo was one that had been snapped candidly of James hexing a rabid ghoul that tried to get the jump on him.

~*

Sara was at door duty, and frowned as Elaine’s ward sensor, disguised as a Galileo Thermometer, had the blue globe rocket upwards, while the green thermometer lowered itself gently.

“Crap,” she muttered. “Dumbledore finally found us. Better warn Severus, we don’t want anyone rumbling our little game…” It was generally agreed by the DBCA and friends that Dumbledore would have some issues with their way of dealing with things. (Possibly from the fact that, quite frankly, they were more effective, while not following the esteemed Professor’s morals.)

She sent off a quick email to the potions room, in a cement basement that was easily cleanable. She then put on a look of polite puzzlement as she asked the man in the sweeping purple robes, “How may I help you?”

He smiled carefully. “I need to speak with James and Lily Potter,” he said politely.

Oh, he was making this too easy. Focusing on Elaine’s question on how, exactly, the man had managed to miss Voldemort in his twitchy, obviously possessed Professor’s head, she asked equally as politely, “Do you have an appointment?”

He frowned. “It’s more of a personal matter, I’m afraid.”

Sara blinked. “Like what, exactly?”

“Ah… I’m afraid I cannot divulge this information,” he said firmly.

Sara raised her eyebrows. “I’ll see if I can set a meeting up,” she said, shooting an email to the Queens’ offices, the Library Office, and the Workshop.

“Thank you,” the Professor said. “Is there somewhere I can sit?”

Sara pointed towards the comfortable chairs along the painting accented walls. He nodded and walked over to them.

The woman sighed and waited for a response. The Professor just waited, smiling slightly.

*Shivers in anticipation* Oh how I love your work!

And I would be the exception to the rule 'did not look as terrifying as rumor would have you believe', am I? Well, as a vampire i can be pretty menacing...

Yay cool library and yay for the appearance of Dumbledore which will shortly be followed by a quarrel of some short, I'm sure...

I love your stuff so much, Cricket! *grins* The DBCA vs DD... It should be v. v. interesting, as well as zany and crazy. I could almost feel sorry for him. Heh.

Also, love the description of the library. *grins* I kinda want to live in there...

Why Don’t You And I? (The More Than A Father’s Interest Remix)

Lily had emailed Sara back first, suggesting that the meeting be held in the office they used when they needed to hold official meetings, with people who tended to frown on planning in a crowded dining hall over who would get what assignment and why. (This was mostly for their wealthier clients and donators.)

Sara forwarded the information to Elaine’s cell, and the Queens and James’ computers. When she got a response from everyone back ten minutes later, she told the Professor brightly, “Okay, the meeting will be in the main conference room in about twenty minutes- Mr. Potter has to finish up whatever project he’s doing now.” She did, actually, know what his project was- a sort of crazy firecracker made with magnesium strips that set itself off, and would be twice as effective against darkness Spookies. (It should be said that the Bada-BOOM Room, as some of the DBCAs had taken to calling it, had every reinforcement charm known to wizards and faeries placed on it, and Cricket had called in someone who owed her a favor to finish it.)

But she highly doubted the Professor would approve of the highly dangerous project, so she didn’t say a word.

Everyone she had emailed was there when she and the Professor got to the room, including the pleasant surprise of Tara sitting at the table as well. She grinned at them, introducing Professor Dumbledore.

Morgan Freeman snuffled her wrist, hoping for treats. “Sorry, prickles, but I’m all out right now.” She walked out, winking.

The Agency had a few nifty tricks up its sleeves, audio-visual spells included.

“I wished to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Potter alone,” Dumbledore said mildly.

“They asked that we sit in,” Elaine said formally, in her “speaking to faeries way”. “Also, I make the main wards, so I need data before I work.”

“She can’t make bricks without clay,” added Remus with a grin. Elaine nodded, an illusory deerstalker cap on her head. “And her name’s still on some of the paperwork.”

“And everyone else?” Dumbledore asked.

“Mel and myself have our own names on the rest of the paperwork,” Adi said, looking at a stack of paper intently. Anyone who looked over her shoulder would have realized it was merely printed fanfiction.

Well, they already knew what was going to happen.

“You ask for one Marauder, you get all of them,” James said firmly.

“I… um…” Tara thought.

“I’d tell her anyway,” Remus said smoothly.

“Thanks,” she whispered. Remus grinned at her briefly.

“You have been missed at the Order,” Dumbledore told the wizards and witch. “And speaking of that, I have some grave news.”

“What is it, Professor?” Lily asked warily. She was fairly sure she knew what it was, but if the information got twisted from their meddling…

“A prophecy concerning young Harry has come to light,” he said, solemnly. “And Voldemort already knows part of it.”

The crowd tried to look surprised, with mixed results. The Queens, Sirius, and Remus did well, while Lily looked furious and James edged away from his wife. Peter looked worried, which was okay. Elaine hid her face with the ragged loose ends of her hair, while Tara just looked at him steadily.

“What, exactly, is the prophecy?” James asked finally.

“The part that Voldemort knows is that Harry will be the one with the power to kill him,” Dumbledore said tiredly.

“Exact wording, please,” Tara said cheerfully.

“Either must die at the hands of the other, for neither can live while the other survives,” he answered.

Elaine raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.

“This means it would be safest for you to go into hiding,” Dumbledore said gently. Mel snorted.

“No it wouldn’t,” she argued. “They’re safest here, trust me.”

“Are they really?” Dumbledore asked peaceably. “If they go under a Fidelius Charm, no one will be able to find them except me.”

“And Irial,” Elaine spat. The King of the Fractured Court was a subject that got Elaine angry faster than anything, though no one was quite sure why.

“Why would he be a problem?” Dumbledore asked curiously.

“He wants the Wild Hunt free, and the Potters’ deaths- and the foiling of the Prophecy, would lead to Faerie involving themselves for the first time in three centuries. The tiend would give them a needed edge,” Elaine said slowly. “For Irial to have a chance to free the Hunt without provoking war between the Courts…”

Dumbledore’s eyes widened. “I didn’t realize it had gotten so bad.”

“He’s made searches for the locking mechanisms Lady Arcadia left to bind the Hunt,” Elaine said, eyes narrow. Adi bit her lip, wondering where exactly Elaine had been between the Red Curse striking and getting the hotel started.

“And the Manor is Seelie territory, not to mention warded to the hilt,” Sirius pointed out helpfully.

Dumbledore nodded. “I see. So I suppose if you would just let me know that you are alright, this will do until you feel it is no longer safe.”

Adi raised an eyebrow. “We will keep them safe, Professor,” she said mildly. He merely smiled and swept off.

“Okay, raise your hand if you found that just as little demeaning,” Elaine asked dryly.

“As long as we still go though with our plan,” Adi replied dryly. “Do we have a timetable yet?”

“Wards just got their new addition last night, so no one with a Dark Mark can enter the grounds except Snape- our Snape, not the newbie spy Snape,” Tara said brightly, Morgan Freeman on her shoulder.

“I’m using some of Lady Belle Dame’s books to research what kinds of charms can be put on Horcruxes,” Lily added, using the nickname for Lady Arona, the matriarch of the Le Vyne family, called the “Belle Dame Sans Merci”. “I’ve got some of the countercurses worked out, but I’m going to have to have some help actually pulling it off.”

“Got it, Lily,” Sirius said. Elaine nodded.

“Okay,” Mel said, “Good enough. Meeting adjourned.”

Sirius plucked his wand out of Elaine’s hair. “I need this back now.”

“Will you stop with the pranking me awake thing?” She asked chirpily. He frowned, considering.

“Except on April Fool’s Day. And my birthday. And when you need it,” he said thoughtfully. She shrugged.

“Deal. Now let’s get on with taking on the multiverse, ‘kay?” she smiled.

“Taking over the multiverse?” Mel asked curiously.

“God, no! Imagine the paperwork!” Elaine laughed.

“Let’s focus on destroying Riddle first,” Adi said thoughtfully, a wicked smile on the Queen’s face.

Peter gulped. Adi was a scary, scary person sometimes. A showdown between her and Voldemort… well, Voldemort would have a closed-casket funeral.

Wow, this lovely little piece completely flew over my head -- tremendous apologies.

*subscribes*

Your writing makes me so happy, really. It's just sarcastic and hilarious and so creative. For the record, seeing a showdown between Adi and Voldemort would be hysterical mainly because Adi would win by a landslide.

Oh, is the title Santana-based? Or am I just too iPod-happy lately?

Oooh! Oooh! I volunteer as part of the Riddle-killing brigade... or the taking-on-the-multiverse group... either one, or both!

Speaking of which, where on earth am I? Unless of course I'm not on earth in which case, where not-on-earth am I?

Dumbledore may be gay, but he's such a stick in the mud...

Bwahahahahahahahahaha! I am so evil I can take down the greatest known villian since Darth Vader? Oh I love it my dearest I truly love it!

C/N: I can't promise to keep this up. I has schoolwork.

Yup, Ari, all the titles come from songs. Care to guess the rest?

Bitch (The Pirate Queen Remix)

The office of Elaine Spinner was unusual, even for a DBCA’s. The room was painted dark blue with gold and silver sponged-on stars and suns, with a hammock in one corner and a many-drawered desk covered in multi-colored post-its in the center.

On one wall was a large corkboard that covered the entire surface, with a series of news clippings with cramped green or purple writing in the margins, interspaced with the odd letter, email, or handwritten notes. Someone had posted a paper giving it various headings, varying from “Black Hat Society” to “Evil Overlord Council” to “The Cthulhu Family”.

A young woman with long red hair and pale, wary features was standing in front of the corkboard, holding an email, looking for a place to put it. Elaine walked into her office, frowning.

“What’s that, Cornelia?” she asked curiously.

“Email from a Detective Hardin, universe KNCV, about a zombie raising in her Denver,” the vampire said. “Damn, girl, you cram this thing.”

“Lily’s been working twenty four seven with Harry and her research,” Elaine said. “It feels rude to ask her to make this a zoom board.”

“Like we have in the Queen’s office?” Cornelia pointed out. “It can’t take that long. Besides, this shit’s important.”

“Language,” Elaine said mildly, taking the email out of Cornelia’s cold dead hands. “Huh. Hardin sounds more roar-y than normal.”

“I keep it in check in front of the little kids,” Cornelia defended. “And you can tell the difference?”

“It’s in her caps lock abuse,” the smaller woman said knowledgably. “And it goes here.” She put in below a typed essay on necromancer psychology and next to another email from Hardin.

Cornelia sighed. “Okay, Cricket, question. This Voldemort jackass, how big a threat is he to the kidlets?”

Elaine smiled. “We increased the wards around the rooms,” she answered. “And we’ve got the Captain of the Queen’s Guards- both of them, ready to help them out.”

Cornelia sighed. “I was safer in goddamn Gotham! And that’s saying something!”

Elaine snorted. “And you didn’t stay why?”

Cornelia snorted back. “I’d have been stuck working for Arkham after I got my degree.” Cornelia was finishing her psych degree in Gotham, taking night classes when she could, and potions when needed.

“Point,” Elaine agreed. “How’s Susan?” The girl was maybe eight, and could shapeshift other people. Her mother had sold her to someone who “had a use for her”, and Susan had escaped a few weeks ago. She had also clung to Cornelia like a life preserver.

“Doing better,” Cornelia said. She smirked, fangs poking out. “I got a hint of where the jackass is staying. Odds of getting permission from above to beat him to death?”

“Slim to none,” Elaine said dryly. “It would cause too many questions.”

“I could dump him in the Narrows,” Cornelia said lightly. Elaine raised her eyebrows.

“And Gordon would realize it was a vampire in a heartbeat,” she pointed out. Cornelia scowled.

“I suppose. Besides, odds are some bigger fish is going to eat him up,” she mused. “Pity that won’t happen for Moldy-Dork.”

“No it isn’t,” Elaine said darkly. “Voldemort’s just a symbol. He gets his ass kicked, that’s symbolic.”

“Were you an English major or something?” Cornelia asked.

“History, actually,” Elaine said. “And I think Voldemort’s going to make his first strike soon.”

“Why?” Cornelia asked.

“’Cause he can’t be sure Dumbledore’s not going to spirit them away,” Elaine said softly. “He won’t want to do extra work.”

“He’s impatient,” Cornelia agreed.

Of course, Voldemort attacked a week later, while almost everyone was asleep.

~
Demon, who had just gotten in from an assignment on a rogue will o ' the whisp upstate, realized it first. The bone fragment windchime, which, normally, refused to move even in the stoutest of gales, was jangling. It was, in fact, a ward against necromancers, and that it was activated meant that someone was trying to get in. Forcefully, and with no subtlety.

And, as most of the practicioners in the city remembered what Demon had done to the last hot-shot dark wizard who tried to break in, it probably wasn't a local. Which left worryingly few options.

"Demon?" called a voice. It was Eddie Carmicheal, a ten year old boy with prophetic dreams. "Someone bad's outside."

Demon sighed. She hadn't wanted witnesses. "Eddie, tell 'Nelia and Elaine." She paused. "And Miss Adi."

Eddie grinned, missing tooth prominent. "So he's going to get his..."

"Yes, yes," Demon said, waving a hand dismissively. She blinked. "Jareth's rubbing off on me. Yikes."

The DBCA's general plan of defense was simple. Get the three main heads of the defense plan awake, and tell them what was wrong. Proceed from there. It wasn’t fancy, but it hadn’t failed yet.

Eddie ran off, no doubt imagining scenes from action movies. He had an unfortunate addiction to them.

“God save us from wide eyed dreamers,” she muttered, ignoring the irony inherent in that statement.

Half a dozen people in either pajamas or the day’s thrown-on clothes ran in, Cornelia not among them, as her job was to keep their charges safe. Demon wasn’t stupid enough to think a vampire of less than a year would be helpful in this sort of thing. The woman still had to work on braking herself while running. Stopping oneself with a wall was just silly.

Sirius spoke first. “Voldemort, d’you think?”

Elaine, who had her eyes closed, grimaced. “98 percent sure. His soul’s all fragmenty and nasty.”

Adi sighed. “I wonder if we can convince the nice Ministry people it was a suicide.”

“They might look the other way,” Ari offered. “I mean, dead Voldemort is a good Voldemort.”

“The only good Voldemort,” Cait muttered darkly, the shapeshifter sighing. “Is he alone?”

“Oddly, yes,” Elaine muttered. “Probably since he didn’t think we’d be much of a fight.”

“That’s just a bit stupid,” Ari murmured. James, who was yawning, nodded.

“But finishing him off would just cause the Death Eaters to scatter,” James pointed out. “And having him vanish…”

“Plus, it’d make a mess,” Sirius pointed out, knowing what the DBCA priorities were.

“Eep,” Demon said softly. “So, just scare him off?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Cait said. “Now… how?”

They schemed as Elaine played with the wards to make them seem like they came down. Eventually, Ari left a mental message telling Nicole to “Get down here now, you get to throw Voldemort out the doors.”

Nicole got down the steps just before Voldemort tried to blast the heavy doors open. The thick, oak doors that were spelled so heavily that it took the captain of the Seelie Queen’s Guard three hours to open.

Needless to say, it didn’t work. The doors slowly opened halfway, Voldemort looking peeved.

Elaine was the only one visible, as it was pointed out she’d look the least threatening, except Ari, but Elaine also was the one running the veil, and random explosions looked cooler if there was no apparent source. Adi was in a separate veil that would come down midway through the play.

“Where are the Potters?” Voldemort asked coldly. Elaine snorted, dispite being a foot shorter than her opponent, and only being in her pajamas and bathrobe.

And ducky slippers. Mustn’t forget the ducky slippers.

“You could at least say please. Though, I should warn you, the Queens don’t take trespass lightly,” the young woman said solemnly. She was leaning against Sara’s desk, a long iron poker hidden behind her bathrobe. She felt very Arthur Dent, really. Or crazy Time Lord. Lady. Whatever.

“What do I care for your Queens?” Voldemort pointed out. “The Potters are my only object this night.”

Elaine gave a creepy River-smile. “I say again, the Queens do not take trespass lightly. Leave this night, and keep what dignity one who has sold his soul may still possess.”

“Also, I can kill you with my brain,” Ari thought to the others, who were grinning. Especially the ones for whom this was true.

“Stand aside, girl, and I will make you death a quick one,” Voldemort said in tones that were amusingly reminiscent of road rage. Elaine sighed.

“I say one last time, my Queens do not brook trespass lightly. Go away and do not come back, under the threat of getting your snaky ass kicked from here to Hell.” Or New Jersey. The two were occasionally interchangeable.

“I doubt your Queens are truly capable of that,” Voldemort said. And as Elaine dropped Adi’s veil, he started, “Avada-”

“STOP,” Adi said simply. And Voldemort froze.

“Think it’s more than skin deep?” Cait asked thoughtfully.

“No,” Ari said, in tones of mock-disappointment.

“You have threatened the life one of mine,” Adi said dramatically. “You plan to end the lives of three more. And for what? The words of a woman so addled in her wits she couldn’t tell a seer from a pan-seared steak? Leave now and I might not demand your blood from the other Courts.”

Demon nearly giggled at the “What is she talking about? …Oh, shit, I am well and truly screwed.” look on Voldemort’s face. It was priceless, and she really, really wished she had a camera.

Voldemort, in trying to kill Elaine and threatening the Potters, had, as they expected, done something very, very stupid. The Agency was a minor Court of Faerie, an independent guardian and watchdog against things going too insane in the supernatural scheme of things. By threatening members of the Court, Voldemort had declared war on Faerie.

James wished that Morgaine would be the one to capture Voldemort. The Unseelie Court had all sorts of nasty fae in its employ.

“You are neither Alusine nor Morgan, therefore no Queen of Faerie, to make such a claim,” Voldemort said musingly. “I shall proceed with my plan.”

Adi looked at him, green-grey eyes wicked. “Oh, you really don’t know what you’re asking for, do you?” She laughed mockingly. “Begone!”

Sirius snorted, though the veil muffled it enough no one outside it could hear.

“I think not,” Voldemort said, raising his wand and aiming it at the Queen.

It was time.

Twin jets of flame twine in an arch of flame, one multicolored and glittering, the other smoky and sullen. Elaine’s eyes flared with silver light as she called on whatever power is in the local ley line. Voldemort screamed. Like Carlotta confronted with bad reviews. (No one, later, asked her what she did. They were afraid she might answer, and no amount of memory charms would help.)

Ari let off an explosion of the knee-to-ankle length of Voldemort’s robes and tip of his wand, then Nicole let off the finale- using Elaine’s warped wards to fling open the doors and the throw Voldemort out by the scruff of his neck.

“This is why we rock,” Nicole said brightly. “I can go back to bed now?”

“You can has bed nao,” Demon said groggily. “What time is it, anyway?”

“Four thirty,” James said. “Harry’ll probably be up soon.”

“And the guests have their last day of school today,” Adi said. “They need to get up in the morning.”

“Mmm. I’ll go make sure the ducklings and their keepers are okay,” Elaine said wearily. “I’m not going to sleep for a bit anyway, if at all.”

“I’ll go with you,” Sirius said. “Scare some of ‘em to behaving.” Elaine raised her eyebrows. “Once, Lainey, once! Won’t you forget it?”

“You started a food fight,” Elaine said, as they started to walk away. “I got peas down my shirt. And gravy on my glasses. And hair.”

“Bug Mel next time,” Adi told Demon tiredly. “She’d probably want a crack at him.”

“Kay,” Demon said. Then, “Did Cricket fix the wards?” Adi blinked.

Ari spoke up. “She said they’d snap back in place.”

“All right. Bed time, darlings. Then back to the grind.”

This post has been edited by ShadowSpinner on Nov 4 2008, 02:01 AM

SYMBOLISM! You got that from V! I quote, "...A building is a symbol, as is the act of destroying it. Symbols are given power by people. A symbol, in and of itself is powerless, but with enough people behind it, blowing up a building can change the world." HA!

Erm... I have a small obsession...

Yay! I enter and I help kick Voldemort's butt, woot! And I don't sleep, so how cna I be tired? Well, I suppose even vampires get tired, they use energy just like anyone else...

Hee! I giggled at the Arthur Dent/crazy Time Lord analogy. And, btw, you are the single most intimidating person I have ever imagined . Someone standing all by themselves in duck slippers against one of the most powerful dark wizards ever is formidable to visualize.

More please!

Adi: Of course! *This was just a warning shot in this chapter.*

Ari: *grins* I know. Adi is awesome, while Voldemort lacks style.

Ashe: I want to live there, too. It's very awesome.

Demon: *grins* I've never seen V before. The symbolism is... a mish-mash, really.

And the ducky slippers were a last minute addition. And when I mentioned the pajamas, the Christmas invasion mention was needed.

I also feel the need to disclaim owning Detective Hardin. That would be Carrie Vaughn, of the Kitty Norville series. And yes, the jokes were called for. (February and the next book can't come quickly enough.)

*is tempted to write a segment with the kids staying at the shelter. y/n?*

You haven't seen V?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

All right, that's your new NUMBER ONE on your to do list, your bigget and brightest sticky note, don't read the book, it's not worth it, the movies pwned the book, and I NEVER say that.

V... it is probably my favorite movie, it has just about everything: great CGI, freaking amazing cast, such good lines (seriously, RTD has NOTHING on this screenplay), love/romance, battle sequences, humor, a message (it's a veyr good messgae and is a wonderful example/reason why I believe America is a sinking ship and I'm running away to England where all the good stuff is ), revenge-themed plot (they're always the most interesting, you know it's true), fantastic soundtrack (that I need to go buy), just... amazingness! I love a lot of things, and some I like better than others, but for different reasons. I can safely say that this pretty much has a foot in all the important categories.

Yeah... a bit obsessed, but my love-of-V-ness is running high right now because tomorrow is Guy Fawkes day and I was V for Halloween (well during the day, at night I was the White Rabbit form Alice in Wonderland ), and if cable had any brains they'd show V tomorrow, but they're tasteless idiots and won't...

Um... [/end rant]

Yes, write any snippet semi-related to this you feel like! And yes, if you hadn't made a 10 reference, you know I would have...

Go and see V for Vendetta, woman! Preferably now. And it's Guy Fawkes Day tomorrow even, what a fitting occasion! It works, it's all lovely. Remember, remember the fifth of November. Like now.

Honestly one of my very favorite quotes of this update -- among many. But still, I sporfled. And for the title guess! Not sure about the others, but I got it because I love Santana, most ardently.

C/N: *adds V for Vendetta onto her to-rent list*

La Vie Boheme (The Viva La Revolution Remix)

“No fighting in the War Room!” Adi said brightly at lunch the next morning. Elaine snorted. “Now, really, logic should be used.”

The redheaded Queen then thought about what she said, but before she could say anything to amend that, Mel said, with crazed cheeriness, “No logic in the War Room!” There was a burst of snickers around the carefully clean table, now littered with books and scribbled papers.

“The locket in the cave’s still there, and only one wizard can go, but one has to go to make the boat move, and they need someone to help them out,” Sara reasoned. “I’d say to get that first.”

Sirius raised his hand. “Only if I get to flame inferi, though.” There were nods of agreement, as nobody really wanted to face the creepy swimming dead folk. “Cricket, you want to come with me?”

Elaine bit her lip. “Only if you want me there.” The cave sounded creepy, and, all things considered, Elaine did not leave the manor for this sort of thing often, only when a vision prompted her or she was needed to break living spells.

“Okay, so you two grab the locket, we investigate it, destroy it, then move in force,” Leah said, thinking. “What else can we do?”

Jackson, a tall, skinny man who looked like he was built from razor-blade bones, said thoughtfully, “Manor security could be improved. Run a few drills, inspect for holes in the security, and so on.”

Mel nodded. “Right, you do that. In the meantime, how’s our Index going?” Snape looked up. The Index was a computer program that was being used to cross-reference the various things the Agency found themselves working on. Mel had made a lot of the computer half of the suggestions, but she left the research half down to various teams to do when they had time. It was their lopsided, information-made Frankenstein-ish baby.

“Mrs. Potter and myself are focusing on enchantments and curses the Dark Lord might use on the Horcruxes and his safe houses. Ashe Erikson is gathering information on necromancy in Salem, though if we capture anyone, her talent will be quite useful. I recommend bringing her home.”

Sheri shook her head. “Ashe called and said she’d be coming home this afternoon. Her contact never showed up. He was coming from a pretty anti-spooky area, so he’s probably stuck laying low for a while.” Or dead, but teleporters were hard for mobs to get their hands on. Besides, they hadn’t heard anything on the news, and some idiot cheering about having hunted a spooky and won would have hit the ‘net by now. The dark haired Queen nodded in understanding.

“And the caseload’s coming pretty well,” Jacob said, eating a humungous roast beef sandwich from last night’s leftovers. Sheri ducked to avoid getting beef crumbs in her hair.

Remus, batting Peter’s fork away from the werewolf’s plate, sighed. He knew that, as he’d been working back-to-back for a week. Tara patted him on the shoulders reassuringly.

Becca Fuller, who was fourteen, walked over. “Eddie said someone tried to break in last night.” Her long cat’s tail batted anxiously, golden eyes flicking over the DBCAs checking for injury.

“Yeah,” Nicole said softly. “But we kicked him out, so, no worries for a while.” Becca rolled her eyes, ears twitching, and walked over to her table.

“We have a bunch of cynics,” Cait said wryly. Seth nodded.

“I think we should go to the cave this afternoon,” Sirius told Elaine, who was too busy with her chicken to focus on what he said, and just nodded.

~

“This is a stupid plan!” Elaine hissed, as she held on for dear life. Sirius had, in a moment of “brilliance”, decided that the easiest way to get to the cave on the cliff was by his motorcycle. His flying motorcycle. Elaine was currently debating homicide as soon as she got on solid ground.

“Is not,” Sirius said, avoiding a jutting bit of cliff. “Have you ever been hit by a motorcycle?”

“No,” Elaine said, thankful for the silencing charm on the bike. Shouting over the motor while getting sprayed with seawater was not her idea of a good time.

“Neither have the Death Eaters. Yet.” Sirius landed just inside the enterance, and they got off the bike, Elaine still a little pale.

“I suppose. Now, I got some blood from the Gotham morgue, the body was cremated, so no necromancy if anyone gets it. So the doorway will be no problem. Hopefully.” Elaine frowned. “Could the spell distinguish between living and dead blood?”

Sirius thought about it. “I don’t think so. Too much of his magic relies on dead things. Besides, I can’t see him using his own blood for this.” Elaine nodded, and pulled out the steel canister. “You’re a bit mad about using steel.”

“Faerie magic doesn’t work on it, and most spells can’t penetrate it, and those that can usually are muted. Same with running water,” Elaine said, pulling out a paintbrush and using the blood to paint a brief loop, cutting it off abruptly. A small, slightly dangerous smile was on her face, even if Demon would be the only one who could realize the macabre joke she had made. Cutting short immortality… okay, maybe she really did read too many books, and maybe they had turned her brain. But no one complained. Muchly.
“Well, that worked. Maybe this won’t be so hard,” Sirius said. Catching a flat glare, he shrugged. “The universe isn’t out to get you, Lainey. Loosen up.”

~*

Sara blinked. Both of them were sopping wet, and Elaine was nursing a nasty looking scratch up her arm. “What happened?”

“The universe is out to get Cricket,” Sirius said dryly. “She fell in an inferi filled lake, and then grabbed me by the ankle, pulling me in too.”

“I thought you put out a restraining order against Murphy’s Law?” Sara asked her friend, amused.

“The bastard ignored it,” Elaine shot back, then sneezed, which provoked a round of nasty, raspy coughs that made her double up.

“Shower, then go bug Lily or Severus for a potion,” Sara said promptly. “That water was probably diseased. You got the thingy?”

Sirius nodded, fishing the tip of the chain out of his jacket pocket. Sara sighed and muttered something about subtlety he ignored.

“Just take it to the Summoning Room first,” Sara said, referring to the creaky old attic that ran the entire top floor. It had no decoration save two mirrors and a steel and copper circle that was worked into the floor A pair of wide windows covered by heavy black velvet curtains made the room perfect for its purpose.

“Will do,” Sirius said, and the two walked upstairs, bickering over whether a clinic visit would be a good idea.

Is my absence punishment for being too tired to write more Dr. Horrible or respond to your PMs? *puppy eyes* I am sorry, but the plot bunnies have decided to stay aloof and I am exhausted. I'll try to do better soon, in fact once I get my new glasses back, I'll set right to work on answering you. THanks for the mention on the joke though .

Please, ma'm, I want some more... *pitiful look*