It was chilly and rainy when Joey arrived early to work, and Mac was the only other one there, in his office typing slowly with two fingers on his ancient work computer. A half-eaten bologna sandwich sat on the desk, and Joey could smell the reek of the banana peppers as soon as he stepped in.
“Expense reports,” Mac said by way of greeting, sounding beleaguered. When Joey turned from hanging his rain slicker on the coat rack, Mac was looking up at him with an inscrutable expression. “Oh, kid…”
“What?” Joey crossed his arms defensively over his new, granny smith apple-green button-down. The cotton was still a little starched and rasped against his skin.
Mac shook his head, bemused, then held up his hands, conciliatory. “Far be it from me to give romantic advice. You look nice.”
Unfolding his arms, Joey shifted uncomfortably with the praise. “Thanks.”
“You do your locs, too?”
Running a hand over his hair, Joey admitted, “Yeah.”
It had taken almost seven hours at the salon the previous day to repair the damage caused by years of neglect. At first the hairstylist had seemed judgmental, but when Joey admitted his motivations, had loosened up and started chattering about his own romantic conquests. It had given Joey a warm mix of humiliation and hopefulness, and he had to admit the results had looked good. He’d resolved to do more upkeep on his hair, regardless of…if this had any effect. Joey had let his appearance go, and when he’d got home from shopping and looked in the mirror, for the first time in maybe five years he liked what he saw.
He should have done this for himself a long time ago. When had he stopped caring?
“Well, I’m always saying you should get out there,” said Mac.
“Yeah, too much,” Joey muttered.
“Do you think I can’t tell that you’ve been lonely?” Mac leaned back in the desk chair, regarding Joey with concern. “Maybe it’s not my place, I don’t know, but I worry. It’s hard for us in this line of work. Maybe it’s even harder for the gays.”
‘The gays’, Joey repeated internally, laughing to himself.
“Don’t get your heart broken,” said Mac, then clapped his hands down on the desk. “Okay, you have something on your mind, spit it out. I know you don’t like to come in early.”
“Well, I wanted to help you with the paperwork from yesterday…” Joey trailed off, shifting uncomfortably.
Taking a bite of his sandwich, Mac chewed for a moment, looking at Joey expectantly. “And?” he prompted once he’d swallowed.
“It’s about yesterday.”
Sobering, Mac said, “Yeah, Frankie told me what happened. She said you seemed pretty shook up. But you’re gonna get better, kid.”
“But what if I don’t?!” The words burst out of him. “Mac, I’m not cut out for this and you know it! You hired me to be Researcher, it’s what I’m good at, and—and now Home Office sent you another field person, you don’t even need me—”
Mac shook his head regretfully. “Those are orders from the higher-ups. I already argued for you, I tell you that? I even called them on the phone, it took an hour to get to talk to anyone. You’re a hell of a Researcher, but you’re Swing now, office and field. You know this stuff better than the others, don’t try to argue that. Use that fancy education and bring your knowledge to the field.”
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“Yeah, my degree in library science is really going to serve me well in a fight.” With great restraint, Joey prevented himself from kicking the wall. “Mac—”
“I’m sorry, kid.” Glancing at the window, he said, “It’s stopped raining. Why don’t you go get some air? It’s nice of you to volunteer for paperwork, but I’ve got it covered today.”
Balling his hands into fists, Joey slouched out of the office and out the back door—just as Frankie was approaching from her SUV. She took one look at him and burst out laughing.
“You’re the worst,” Joey informed her, but she was busy cackling and gesturing at Joey’s outfit.
“You’ve still got—the creases from the shelf—” Frankie managed, and looking down at his clothes Joey realized she was right.
“I don’t have an iron,” he defended.
Wiping tears of mirth from her eyes, Frankie finally calmed down somewhat. “Bro, you don’t even know him! He could be a serial killer! You’re coming over all lovestruck.”
Joey looked away from her to where Indira approached from the street—she was renting close by with a few roommates, she’d told them, so she didn’t have too much of a commute. “Nice threads,” Indira said appreciatively to Joey as she walked up to them. “There a special occasion?”
Frankie started laughing again and Joey shoved her shoulder. Just then Caden appeared from around the corner of the store and headed toward the group. Joey forced himself to breathe evenly. He was not ‘coming over lovestruck’, no matter what Frankie said. He didn’t like how easily Frankie and Mac had seen through him, though. He’d known them too long, that was the problem.
About six paces away Caden stopped in his tracks, seeming to spot Joey for the first time. Then he gave Joey a very obviously admiring up-and-down look. Amazed, Joey darted a glance at Frankie and saw her struggling to hold in more laughter. When Joey looked back, Caden had flushed beet red, clearly embarrassed, and stuttered a “Morning” at them, stepping around Joey and clanking through the back door.
It had started sprinkling rain again, so while Frankie snorted into more laughter, Joey entered the back door as well, followed by Indira and finally Frankie. As soon as they were inside, they saw Mac standing in his office door. Mac clapped once and announced, “Morning briefing!”
Everyone filed into the front since the back room was too cramped for five people. They all settled on various musty couches and chairs in the dim antiques store.
“All right,” said Mac, leaning forward with his arms braced on his thighs in a pink wingback armchair. “We got a twofer today. First one we got a werewolf worked up over something, she didn’t say what. I’ll be coming out with you on that one since Frankie’s not much for diplomacy.”
Leaning back on a blue couch with folded arms and crossed legs, Frankie let out a grunt of disgust. Indira turned to catch Joey’s eye, her face a question.
“Frankie has a thing about non-humans,” murmured Joey.
“It’s not a ‘thing’, okay?, it’s just fact,” interjected Frankie. “They’re different from us and I don’t trust them. They’re not human.”
“They’re people,” Mac returned with his well-worn argument.
“They think different,” said Frankie, uncrossing her legs and leaning forward. “They can do things we can’t. It’s different with Channelers,” she said as an aside to Caden, who seemed vaguely discomfited. “Those are humans with magic sensitivity, there’s lots of those around, they can just use it like other people can’t. Non-humans are different species: it’s in the name!” She threw up her hands, leaning back on the couch once more.
“Okay, and this is why I’ll be coming along,” Mac said, to regain control of the conversation. “Then you’re on your own for the second gig, which is some kind of haunting in an old lady’s house. I could barely understand her, she talked so quiet. Referred to us by Jerry—one of our plumber contacts,” he explained to the new members of the team. “Client thought there was something wrong with the pipes. Since I won’t be there for that one, Frankie will take point, but you can call me if you need any other strategy—after all, I am the Planner,” he said with a rueful smile. “Okay, go, shoo, get ready. Rotten weather today, huh?”
Mac stepped aside to confer with Frankie while Indira went to the back to start loading the van. Joey was about to head back and re-read all his research on hauntings, but Caden caught his attention with a gentle touch to the arm. Startled, Joey looked down at Caden’s hand on his sleeve, the emerald ring on Caden’s finger catching the light, then up into his questioning green eyes, only then realizing that Joey had dressed to match them. He cursed internally.
“I was wondering,” Caden said, dropping his hand to his side. “Just out of curiosity—I sense some really strong shields around HQ. I wondered what’s powering them.”
For a few seconds Joey’s brain struggled to parse this, still hung up on Caden touching his arm, then he blurted, “I can show you! It’s our most powerful artifacts, in Mac’s office.”
“I’d love that,” said Caden with a soft smile.