Fractured Mirth
part 8
"What the hell happened to you guys?" Rachel Burke interjected, as the three figures slowly came into her line of vision, their expressions plagued with pure exhaustion, as they stumbled entirely into view.
"Ambushed?" John tiredly suggested, as he tried to steady his balance across Phoebe's shoulder blades, inching his arm closer to her neck.
"By who?"
He put a hand up, silencing her, as he threw her a sarcastic grin. "Well, see, that's the problem. They never showed their faces, nor were they willing to sit down and chat. In fact, I'd say they just love to play with fire."
"The car," she whispered.
Bailey nodded. "It's sure going to be one hell of a rental fee."
Paige couldn't help but smirk. "You could always show them how dirty you got in the process, amd maybe they'd be nice enough to give you a discount."
"How about severely injured and fearing for my manhood?" John volunteered with a hopeful gaze. "Think it'll hold?"
"You shouldn't have brought him here," Rachel argued suddenly, her face transforming itself into a slight wave of concern for her friend, as she inspected his bruises more closely. "Bailey, he's not in any position to pick a fight."
"Regardless, it means someone's onto us, and we can't afford to risk more than we have to," Cole Turner spoke up, arms crossing his chest.
"Is this your way of conveniently backing out?" Rachel taunted, raising an eyebrow.
He offered her a slight glare, arching an eyebrow. "No, it's my way of conveniently telling you what we're up against."
It was then that John really looked at the other man for the first time. The instant recognition of a near perfect reflection had him tense slightly, blinking, as he struggled to believe the visage that was in plain view was that of his own, minus the accumulation of stubble that clouded Cole's face. Same height, same build, same color eyes. Even his movements were a direct representation of his own.
It was at that precise moment that Cole chose meet his stare, the confusion sweeping through both of them all at once, as John saw the other man take a gentle step back, his arms shifting briefly until they lay at his sides. Sensing the faintest trace of jealousy that seemed to drift through his opponent, he slowly dropped his arm from around Phoebe, letting it quickly slide into the pocket of his pants, feeling his bruises cry out in pain from the effort.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Phoebe spoke up, her face a pile of smiles as she picked up on the awful waves of silence, gesturing rapidly with her hands, as she held back a nervous giggle. "You guys haven't been properly introduced yet. John Grant, Cole Turner...my boyfriend. Cole Turner, John Grant."
"It's....unmistakeable," Piper added, her eyes widening as she quietly compared the two men with pure and utter awe.
"Pleasure," John confirmed, as he held out his hand, watching as Cole accepted it rather hesitantly, giving it a loose shake.
"Likewise," Cole echoed, his expression completely blank.
"And now that we're all well acquainted, I think it's time we get down to business," Bailey sided.
"I know I'm probably not speaking for everyone here, but since the original plan seems to be a bust, I say we head back to the manor and sort out everything there," Paige added, letting herself into the conversation.
"You don't suppose those guys found themselves pissed after our little encounter and trashed your car, do you?" Rachel mused, her gaze transfixed on Bailey, as she gently set her hands against her hips.
"Unlikely," he considered. "The chances of that happening are-"
"Actually, pretty good," John sided, cutting in. "I mean, you figure they could've had help...some lookouts. Wouldn't be too hard to set up if you had an expert in the group."
"Well, that's the problem, isn't it?" Cole told him. "We haven't exactly established who's working with who just yet, and it's only serving further to our disadvantage."
"Don't mind him," Rachel threw out, struggling not to smile, as she gently gave Cole's shoulder a small pat. "He's just ornery because we couldn't catch the bad guy."
"I believe there were two," he reiterated. "And if you hadn't acted on impulse, we would've been able to get them to talk."
"Did I forget to mention that he already thinks he's a cop too?"
"It's plausible that it was a distraction," Bailey thoughtfully proclaimed, as he gently scratched his chin. "But in the long run, drawing us apart only makes it easier."
"For who?" John countered. "Bailey, if anything, they're deliberately trying to remain-"
"Sight unseen?" Phoebe volunteered.
He nodded. "Something just doesn't add up. And if these were even the same group of guys who went through the trouble to knock me onto the pavement, they obviously come in all shapes and sizes."
"So you're saying that if we even try and alert the rest of the team, this could blow up in our faces?" Rachel asked him, her attention somewhat preoccupied, as her eyes focused themselves to the ground below.
"Don't remind me about things blowing up," John whispered.
"So if these guys are demons, chances are they're going to know we're at the manor too," Piper added, shrugging.
"Wait. What?" John immediately turned his head towards her, his blues widening as far as they would go, as they rapidly settled on Phoebe, a hand running nervously through his hair. "Look, I respect that both of you are different, but I really don't think we should keep going this far."
"And that's why you dutifully related the triquetra to Wiccan and somehow forgot to tell me," Phoebe mumbled, throwing a half smile over her pretty features.
"Yeah, but that's not demons. It's an age old religion that people practice who only think they have the power to be witches."
"Someone really needs to explain to him the facts of life," Paige sided, nodding, as a playful grin spread over her own visage.
"Bailey, tell them," he prodded.
"To suspend their beliefs?" Bailey returned, giving him a small wink of reassurance. "I think they already have, John."
"This just can't be happening," he continued, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "You know, maybe I'll just pretend I never heard it. Maybe I'll just go back to the VCTF, and send George out instead-"
"We need you on this, John. You know that."
"And I think it's a little too weak for my taste."
"Weak?" Piper repeated, slightly rolling her eyes. "They're just like us, only they have powers. Once you know what those powers are, you find a way to block them."
"Does that involve casting spells by any chance?"
"Sometimes."
"It's easier if you just let it all sink in at once," Cole told him honestly, readjusting the sleeves upon his sweatshirt.
"And if it helps, Cole's actually half demon himself."
"Half?"
"So we rest up for the night," Rachel prompted. "Then we see what we can dig up first thing in the morning."
"We need George and Grace on this," Bailey emphasized. "We can't do it without them."
"But we've had no bodies since-"
"I'm flying back to Atlanta tonight," he told her.
"Bailey, I need you here. John's-"
"John's never been better," John spoke up, shooting her a suspicious glare.
"John will do fine," Bailey advised. "Besides, we have Cole now, and-"
"And a pair of keys to go with it," Cole cut in, fishing them carefully out of his coat pocket, as he raised an eyebrow, and grinned at them.
"Oh. Yes. Behold the hero with the bright shiny objects," Rachel quipped, rolling her eyes. "Gee, I guess you've really made a name for yourself with those."
"Is she always this difficult?"
Bailey smiled. "Only if you catch her at a bad time."
"Then I...guess that must be all the time," he sided, chuckling quietly to himself.
"You better hope we don't find any victims those two men happen to be responsible for," she countered, crossing her arms impatiently across her chest.
"And to catch the bad guy, you can't just act without thought in San Francisco, or you might just end up as one of those victims."
"Okay," Phoebe offered. "How about we just go home to a nice warm bed for the night, and meet up over a cup of coffee, alright?"
"Works for me."
Bailey silently tipped his hat to them. "I'll be at the airport. It's probably a good thing if we don't try to reach one another 'til that time."
"I need a shower," John whispered, his hands seeping beneath the dirt that caked his face, as he uttered a prolonged sigh.
"You...can wash up at the manor, if you'd like," Piper told him.
"We've got a hotel room," Rachel assured her. "No worries. I have to go over some more of my notes, anyway."
"Might I kindly suggest a book of do's and don'ts?" Cole asked her, his blues filling with a profound sense of amusement.
"Then you might just want to score a goal overnight."
"I'm sorry?"
"It's like I said before- your attitude needs work. You can't expect to be John Grant, if you can only strive for Cole Turner."
"I am Cole Turner," he drawled annoyingly, as he shot her a hard glare.
"You know, it's no wonder neither of you caught up to those guys," Paige added. "Look at you. You're acting like it's the end of the world, and someone stole someone else's Barbie or GI Joe."
"She started it," Cole huffed, throwing his hands up lightly into the air. "She always starts it."
Phoebe smiled, gently taking her hand with his, as she gingerly gave it a squeeze. Her eyes searched his briefly, as she noted the exhaustion set beneath them, the faintest details just slipping to the surface. "C'mon. You'll feel better when you get some sleep, hmm?"
"Just my luck, she'll be in my nightmares," he murmured, throwing Rachel one last look, as he followed Phoebe on foot, reluctantly allowing himself to be lead by her, as Piper and Paige trailed a safe distance behind them.
"Dammit, we were so close," she snapped. "So close."
"It wouldn't have been wise to try it all in one shot," John told her. "Trust me on that one. I don't want to end up with a broken back before I live to see tomorrow."
"You really think he's going to work?"
"Well, in a sense, he's me," he softly joked. "Just...with a girlfriend and without the skepticism."
"Oh, you forgot the part about being half demon," she gloated brightly.
"Yeah, who would've thought?"
"Listen, you really like her, don't you?"
He raised an eyebrow, his frame of vision trailing after Bailey, as the older man began his long walk down the street, his long coat cradled roughly in his grasp. "Who?"
"C'mon, John, you've had your eyes on her all night."
He shrugged. "Not that that's any of your business, mind you."
"Of course not."
"She pushed me today," he whispered, the creases in his mouth threatening to twitch into a lazy smile. "I've never met anyone who believed that much in the cause they stood for. She really tried to convince me that we might have a supernatural madman on our hands."
She looked up him. "Maybe we do. I mean, these guys probably join forces like this all the time."
"You think?"
"They're not stupid, John. That much is true. They've got some kind of idea in mind, and all we've gotta do is work our brains to the brim to figure it out."
"Yeah, well, you can work your brain, and I'll rest mine a bit, okay?"
"I gotta call the car in. I know we shouldn't risk it, but they gotta be aware of what's what, even with Bailey gone and heading back."
He nodded. "Something tells me George is also a sitting duck on this one, but hey, what do I know? Beaten, bruised, torn of a man I am tonight."
She laughed quietly. "It looks good on you."
"What's what?"
"The ruggedly handsome approach."
"Well, the dirt comes off- so then what am I left with?"
"A kind heart?" she mildly suggested.
"Now there's something I don't think I've ever mastered."
"You know, if you're still blaming yourself for Kate-"
He immediately cut her off, throwing out a hand instead. "Rachel, this has nothing to do with Kate. It has everything to with women like Kate that were taken advantage of, drugged, and found laying facedown with a triquetra lodged into their backs. I'm not stopping until I see this guy rot away in the big house for all he's dragged us through."
"Yeah, and there might actually be a lot of surprises along the way."
"Oh, I'm counting on it, believe me."
"If we could just find someone who's willing to talk. Still....we can't give up on those keys yet, and Turner's girlfriend could be our only link."
Curiousity got the better of him again. "How so?"
"She didn't tell you?"
"Can't say that she did. But you know, with all the witch talk flying over my head, I could have just missed it."
"Sure you did."
"Alright, so what can she do? If anything, it's gotta be better than pulling a rabbit out of a hat."
"Oh, it is. She gets pictures in her head. Objects trigger it, and she can see into the future."
"Rachel, do you have any idea how tired I am right now?"
"I'm not jerking your chain, but have it your way."
"Well, you're jerking something, so I'm going to say it's my pride."
"Not all people need guns to know when to defend themselves."
"I think you've been hanging around Cole too long, you know that?"
"Cole has nothing to do with this. I'm a Profiler, John. I have to envision this as best I can because lives depend on it."
"So how are hers any different from how you depict a crime scene? In my opinion, there's no-"
"Yeah, and that's your opinion. I like to live on the edge."
"So I've noticed."
"Point being-"
"Point being, if she were really that good, she'd be you by now. She'd have a ton of solved cases under her belt, and she'd be one of the best damn agents the VCTF could have hoped for in a billion lifetimes."
"Now you're stretching it."
"Yeah, but it's something worth thinking about, isn't it?"
"She bothers you, too."
"No, she doesn't."
"More than you know, and right now it's just eating away at you trying to figure her out."
"Is that one of your profiles at work?"
"No, it's common sense at work. You should try reasoning with yourself sometime. You'd be surprised where you might end up."
The figure dressed in black, calmly watched the two of them walk away, as he stepped out into the dead of night, stretching his arms widely in front of him, as he allowed each of his knuckles a slight crack, his duster nearly reaching the piles of dirt strewn about at his feet, letting out the long breath he'd been safely holding. "They're tricky," he mused soundly, talking to no one in particular, as he fondly fingered the gold chain that hung around his neck, tracing the pattern with careful precision.
"But....not tricky enough," a hoarse voice drawled behind him. "Alert the boys. I think we're going to have ourselves some fun before the night is out."