Fractured Mirth
part 5
Bailey Malone approached 1329 Prescott with a faint hesitance in his demeanor, quickly making a double check of the digits George had given him. The place had a certain serenity about it that bothered him, though he couldn't quite place his finger on it just yet. It hardly seemed to be a logical place that would come to relate to such an investigation in any sense of the word, much less at all. He narrowed his eyes a moment, as he climbed the front steps, slowly offering a few raps to the door, retrieving his badge from beneath his coat, as he prepared for his introduction. A light came on briefly in the foyer, as he could hear faint footsteps jogging a few beats. The knob was yanked open by a petite brunette, her hair tied back in a loose ponytail, her glance eyeing him up with an odd curiousity, as her lips parted ever so slightly. Her hand rested upon the wooden frame, as she refused to creak it apart anymore than it was, her legs crossing at the ankle.
Can I...help you?"
He nodded, offering her his credentials, as he met her gaze right on, lifting a hopeful eyebrow. "My name is Bailey Malone, and I'm with the Violent Crimes Task Force in Atlanta. Do you mind if I come in and ask you a few questions?"
Piper Halliwell stood her ground, never missing a beat, as she looked directly behind him, and to either side, once again letting her frame of vision run back over his face. "Can I ask what this is in regards to?"
"Actually....I'm still not entirely sure yet," Bailey confirmed, nervously lifting his hat over his head, as he began to toy with it absentmindedly in his hands.
"Well, unless you have warrant, I suggest that you come back la-"
"Out here is fine," he urged, gesturing to the property around them, as his expression turned completely serious at that moment, indicating there was indeed a pressing matter at hand.
"And what kind of...association do we have to the force?" she demanded quietly.
"I assume you've been watching the news these past few days?" he inquired briefly. "There's a man-"
"Duane Robertson. Yeah, I know."
"A fellow agent was badly beaten in a location not far from this house. I suggest it would be in your best interest to cooperate and tell us-"
"I don't know anything about Duane," she insisted.
"No, but I'll bet you know someone who might."
The statement was enough to burn a hole right through her. "I'm sorry?" she tried innocently, as her hand began to edge the door shut just a bit, her eyes still focused upon him with a slight impatience.
"The woman from the hospital. You were there with her, weren't you? Agent Bruke recently took a man into custody, and I have reason to believe you know that man. I find it awfully hard to side with this just being a mere coincidence, Miss...."
"Halliwell. And for your information, Mr. Malone, she took the wrong man into custody," Piper replied simply. "Cole Turner doesn't know anything about what happened to that agent. But I think you already know that."
"All I know, is there seems to be a strong connection between your family and the victim, which prompted your friend-"
"Sister. Phoebe is my sister," she said softly.
"That prompted your sister to come there at that particular time of the night, right after his story was broadcast on the news."
"And speaking of the time of night, some of us would also like to get some rest."
"Miss Halliwell, I can't help you, unless you help me."
"If I don't, are you planning on arresting me against my will too?" she countered.
"I would presume you need just as many answers as I do," he reasoned.
"And your agent?" she questioned. "Is he okay? Has he....come to yet?"
"John's a trooper, he'll probably be back on his feet in no time," Bailey assured her calmly, giving her a warm smile.
"Look, I wish I could help you out, but I really....I don't think I'm in any position-"
"We've been pursuing Duane for awhile now. Of course...Agent Burke doesn't believe he's responsible for what he's done, but I'm not so sure her analysis is entirely accurate in this case. She's a damn good profiler, but we're going to need a hell of a lot more if we expect to crack this case."
"And I'm not your girl. I only know that Phoebe went there tonight, because she thought it was Cole. She was worried about him and thought something might've happened."
"Might've happened....in what sense?"
"She thought he was the one who was hurt. But as it turned out, the resemblance was rather uncanny, and- look, where's your warrant?"
"And I thought this was working out pretty well," he surmised.
"Yeah, and Phoebe told me-"
"Phoebe told you what?" a voice echoed behind Bailey, as The Charmed One caught them offguard, running a few fingers through her hair as she approached them, offering a slight yawn on her behalf, her eyes already tainted with traces of exhaustion. Her glance immediately latched onto Bailey after her glimpsing her sister, an eyebrow tossing itself up out of pure confusion, as she set her hands against her hips. "Wait. What's going on?"
"Such a good question," Piper mumbled thoughtfully, as she rolled her eyes.
"Phoebe Halliwell?" Bailey interjected.
"Yeah, that's me. And if it was something somebody said I did, I really never had any intention of doing it."
"Excuse me?" he responded.
"Um....I think a really good choice of words on my part now, would be 'who are you'?" she stated, her arms wasting no time in quickly shifting neatly across her shoulders.
"His name is Bailey Malone," Piper volunteered. "He's with this crimes task force thing, and he also thinks we might know something on that Robertson guy who's supposed to be tried."
"When they catch him," Phoebe added.
"When they catch him," her sister repeated, growing slightly annoyed with each passing minute. "Whatever. The point is-"
"We don't know anything on Robertson," she concluded, turning back to him.
"Yeah, as I was trying to tell him," Piper managed, placing a hand nonchalently behind her neck.
"And just for the record, Cole's no longer at the station. He and Rachel are comparing notes. Which means....we need to start putting forth a little in terms of answers, too."
"What?" she asked, clearly dumbfounded. "What are you talking about?"
"He escaped?" Bailey countered.
"Mr. Malone, with all due respect, we really are kind of in the middle of something here-"
"Rachel's comparing notes with a potential suspect?" he returned.
"Well, sure...I guess....I guess it might kind of look that way," Phoebe began, her voice tainted just above a whisper. "But he told her he would tell her everything- and trust me when I say you really don't want to know what that everything is."
"He has vital information to this case?"
"In a manner of speaking, yes."
"Where are they?"
"If you're planning on catching the monsters who nearly murdered your friend, I think you might just be looking in the wrong spot," she urged plainly, wincing a bit.
"But it's been established that he does in fact know something?"
"Kind of."
"Where are they?"
"Okay, look." Phoebe positioned herself directly in front of him, as her lips tightened into an intense frown, her composure tensing as she glued her eyes to his without budging, her arms readjusting themselves without a moment's hesitation, as her shade of brown cleanly bore into his. She then shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "I know you're concerned with solving this, but so are we. We're just as much involved in this as you are. As a matter of fact, it would probably be a good idea if Cole's name stays cleared right now...because chances are, the guys who were out prowling and stumbled upon Grant in the wrong place at the wrong time- are going to be back. Guys like that don't just move in for the kill and assume they've done a fine job of it. The truth of it is, once they see one of them up and walking around, they're going to want to make sure there are no witnesses, and that their target stays dead and buried, away from the public eye. Which means...both men are in a lot of danger. You can't make any sudden moves and hope to get away with it."
"So what you're saying, is that Cole was the intended target, and they took out Agent Grant instead?"
"That's the way it looks," she offered, nodding. "So Rachel has decided to take Cole, and-"
"Miss Halliwell, this isn't about putting your boyfriend out as bait and watching Robertson and his guys move in to take him. It's about-"
"I'm not sure Robertson is working with these guys."
"Debts," Piper murmured, her tone nearly beckoning towards a whisper. "Right. I should have figured that part out by now."
Phoebe shot her a glare. "In case we're not exactly clear, some of the population in San Francisco just attacks without question. Some of them need to attack?"
"Ooooh," she breathed, suddenly realizing. "Gotcha."
"So what we have to do is meet them, and try to work out a plan of action."
"Plan?" Bailey returned.
___________
"Okay, so help me, if you ever do that to me again, I'll waste no time booking you on every count that comes into my head. Got it?"
"You're not too good at making threats, are you?"
"Mr. Turner, I don't know what you are, I don't know how you were able to bring me here- but if it's any consolation to you, you are seriously scaring the hell out of me right now, okay?"
"Relax," he assured her, yanking open the restaurant door with a single swipe, urging her calmly inside, as he bowed slightly in targeting her presence. "FBI agents first."
"What's the matter? Scared you'll have to watch your back now?"
"No, it's just that I happen to like watching yours a lot more," he lightly quipped, as he signaled briefly to the waitress behind the counter, tossing up a matter of two digits with his fingers, as he watched her grab for two menus, motioning for them to follow her. Her steps were brisk as she led them to a small booth in the far corner, offering them a friendly smile, as she began to head over to another table, an elderly customer holding out a check, throwing their coat abruptly over their shoulders, as she quickly went to snatch it.
"Did anyone ever bother to tell you that you have a really smart mouth?"
"Look, I'll be the one doing the talking here, alright?"
"I should've guessed. Gives you a real thrill to take charge on a woman, does it?"
"Does that upset you in any way?"
"I don't suppose you would know if it did," she mustered, opening up the menu, as she resisted another glance at him, her temper slightly flaring.
"Okay, with all fighting and childish antics aside, I think we really might just end up being of important use to one another."
"You don't say," she reasoned dryly.
"Are you going to let me-"
"How did you do it?"
"Excuse me?"
"The shimmering. How did you do it?"
"Pretty fancy trick, wasn't it?"
"You really want to make me sweat, don't you?"
"I have certain abilities that make me who I am. My mother was rather unique in her day, and she's the reason I'm able to master a lot of my...skills the way I do. I was trained, even drilled into learning what I have, and at one point in my life, I even had a mentor who made sure I took pleasure in the destruction I was raised to accomplish and carry out. Of course, there's really no sense in bragging about it, considering I was working for the very same group that wants me dead now, and would rather have my head wobbling on a pointy stick, than ever admit I was once aligned with them in dignity. Is that complete enough for you now?"
"So you're on the run. Big deal. It doesn't mean-"
"Did you even listen to a damn word I said?"
"Mr. Turner if you do want me to listen, you're going to have to do a lot better than that."
"Too vague for you, is it?"
"Yeah. A little," she agreed, her mouth set in a tight line.
"I'm a half demon. My father was mortal, my mother was the demon. I used to belong to an organization called The Brotherhood Of the Thorn. They were composed of demons who carried out tasks which they believed would better their own little private community from letting do-gooders take a foothold. When I broke away from them, they'd also heard the rumors I'd betrayed the Source, killed The Triad, and fallen for a witch. Complicated as it may sound, I've had bountyhunters on my ass like super glue, and I've got nowhere to turn to anymore to even think about preserving my sanity and settling down with the woman of my dreams with a nice little picket fence." He paused a moment, his gorgeous profile melting into an amused smile. "Now, if I'm correct in my assumptions, I'd say the guys who left John for dead, were just another couple of annoying demons trying to beat me senseless so they can earn their just rewards and live happily ever after in black cloaks and darkness with the big bad. Me, I'm tired of killing them, and tired of pursuing their sorry pieces of existence to keep them away from the woman I love."
She blinked, several times, as she stared at him long and hard, the disbelief etched across her pretty features, as she took a long sip of the ice water that had since been dropped at their table, refusing to stop until she had nearly drank her fill of the entire amount, her system proclaiming a nervous sigh. "You expect me to mark every single bit of that down as fact?"
"It's the truth. You wanted it, and now you have it falling right into your lap. What you do with it, is up to you."
"And how exactly can I do anything about it, when it's something out of a damn sci-fi film?"
"Then it just confirms my suspicions that you really aren't the slightest bit ready, doesn't it?"
"Supposing it's true. How the hell do I relate this to the investigation? Hmm?" She almost laughed then, a silly smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Oh, right. You have to play hero, because they've got something on you, is that it?"
"You know, maybe if you just quit aching for the home run on the first try, this could all run a bit more smoothly."
"So now you're an expert in baseball too?"
"You're missing my point entirely."
"And maybe I really did choose the wrong man for the job."
"Another thing you haven't quite considered in your hasty decision making, is the fact that the information you're looking for is more than just a fraction away from finding its ground. You're going to need John, just as much as you're going to need me."
"You were born like this?"
"I learned from my mistakes. I've taken control. Which is just what you need to start doing."
"I am in control," she snapped rather roughly, as she clasped her hands together firmly onto the table.
"You're still letting what happened to your friend weaken your ability to see past what's already there."
"You're joking, right?"
"My mother never gave me any decisions to make, when she decided my fate all by her lonesome. On the other hand, your fate can be determined by how you act on this, and what resources you're going to include when I go in and pay our companions a little visit."
"So what you're saying, is that magic never opts for a substitute-"
"I've relied on it my entire life."
"But it doesn't exist. It's folklore, child's play. I heard tales when I was a kid, and no one ever coaxed me into believing it. Because it wasn't real."
"Miss Burke, there are a lot of things that couldn't have seemed real in a millions years. But yet....here they are, roaming the earth, and co-existing with humans like an ordinary ritual in their behavior patterns. They blend."
"Like you do?"
"I guess you could say that. Chances are, if you like what you see here, you're not going to like the other half one bit."
"You can alter your-"
He shrugged. "Only when I'm really angry."
"Oh. Well, that's...comforting."
"Do you still want my assistance or not?"
"Mr. Turner-"
"Cole."
"Cole, it's probably a lot more risky than you know. And since you're my full responsibility-"
"My life is entirely in your hands," he sided, smiling rather faintly, as his eyebrows raised themselves ever so slightly, his blue eyes trailing hers, as the waitress finally came over to take their orders.