i fell in love with a war

baron snow | 30 | she/they | auror inspector | pts: 350

[snowbaron]

cypresscrow​:

It makes sense, that MACUSA would have been a place important enough for Allen Snow to stick around—if the once-chief of the Easter Squad had been anything like their own acting chief, or any of the other higher-up aurors Cypress had dealt with before, his job had probably been pretty much his life, at least enough for his ghost to make some lasting impression on it. But then there was the problem of space, the weird fact that while, yes, the Eastern Squad offices were technically just one floor down, they were also technically in an entire other state than the Central Squad offices. Or… something like that. He’s never bothered to question the metaphysics of their many-entranced office.

But the rest of MACUSA is in New York, along with the Eastern Squad, so her suggestion about the occlumency training rooms is probably a good one, as good as they’re going to get without getting into the Eastern Squad chief’s office. There’s no telling what kind of range his ghost will have, if it’s even here at all, but it’s the best answer they’ve got—

And then, Baron mentions the cigar smoke, and maybe it’s a stretch, but… maybe it’s just the sign they need to know that he actually is still here, in some capacity, that there may be some chance of communicating with him after all.

     “Yeah, I mean, it sounds like it’s worth a shot,” he says, his voice a little more level than the excitement in hers. He wishes she wouldn’t get her hopes up like this, but, well, he can’t really blame her, and he did offer. 

It’s a quick trip down to the training rooms, and once the two of them are there he takes a seat across from her, sets his deck of cards on the table. The room feels nothing like the kind of place where a seance should take place, sterile and too well lit; it feels like there should be candles or something like that. He’s not sure. He’s never been to a seance, is basing all of his assumptions of what they look like in late-night movies. But he also knows his powers don’t work based on whether or not there are candles, so maybe it doesn’t really matter at all what the room looks like.

     “Okay,” he says, trying to search his mind for where to start. Something simple, something ritual, something to attune him to the feeling of the right spirit, that’s what Magnolius had said might work. “Think about him, I guess. Focus on him. Draw a card from the deck and tell me something about him.” 

.

She knows that there’s a chance that this won’t work. The cigar smoke might not be the sign that she hopes it is, and there haven’t been any other indications to suggest that Allen Snow’s ghost is hanging around the MACUSA building, why would it be? His death is unfinished business to her, yes, but he knew his secrets, he knew why he did it all. She doesn’t know the logistics of this––and neither does Cypress, she would guess––but she’s not sure if it’s only lingering ghosts, or if it might be possible to find spirits who have moved on. Either way, she can’t help but get her hopes up a little. Hanging in limbo isn’t something she’s content with, especially not when they had gotten so close to things, only for it all to come to a halt, timed perfectly with Judith Eames’ disappearance. She knows it’s all connected, knows it must be another case of wrongs being righted after mistakes were made, but she doesn’t have the pieces to connect it all yet. A conversation with Allen Snow, the real Allen Snow, could be the thing that would fill in the gaps.

So Baron just nods, letting her thoughts race, already trying to work out the best way to go about this all, as they head down to the training rooms, and lock themselves away in an empty room, sitting down. It feels weird, sitting in a training room, the bright florescents, everything about it impersonal, but then maybe that’s right for this; her job has been her whole life, up until recently, and maybe part of that was Allen Snow’s problem, too.

It’s strange, it feels like they’re playing pretend, but she focuses, nods along with his words, closes her eyes, because that feels right, thinks about all that she knows about him, thinks about what it was like to see someone masquerading as him, thinks about that smell of cigar smoke, the taste of bourbon. She reaches out, and puts her fingers on a card.

“I never met him, but I know he liked good bourbon, neat; my mom got that from him. No ice, even. She never talks about him, but one time I caught her mixing it with Ale-8, and she told me he had said that’s the only way you should ever mix bourbon, and even then, only on occasion. I don’t know many personal things about him... he kind of looms larger than life,” she says.

She lets out a small sigh, as she opens her eyes, wondering if that’s the sort of thing Cypress was looking for. Either way, Baron finally draws a car, and looks down at it, resisting the urge to ask what it means.

[snowbaron]

deliverancemayhew​:

There should be a strangeness that comes in having worked together for such a long while and yet knowing next to nothing about each other. They share a desk, but they haven’t gotten cozy about it, not like some of the others have. Marleigh and HQ act like their married, just because they spend all day looking at each other. Whenever he glances over at the french one and the nerdy one, they seem like they’re on the brink of something pretty intense, all smiles and quiet conversations, passing notes back and forth. He thinks its a side effect of the fact that Liv and Baron are more similar than most people know. They don’t make much of an effort with people at work. It’s why there are only three people in the office that Liv knows anything about – he’s never wanted to put himself out there, never found them interesting enough to waste his time on, when he was pretty sure most of them would hate him given the chance. Baron, in her turn, always seemed more focused on work than anything else. 

They shared a desk. They talked a little. But this might be the first real conversation they had ever had, definitely the first one outside of the bounds of their stations. 

It’s strange, but he thinks he might like her already, that he might have been foolish to not think Baron Snow was overly worth his time. She always seemed so wrapped up in her own drama, in the weight of the family name that Liv didn’t give two shits about. But now she was wrapped up in his drama too, in the complex journey of getting close to a Savage brother, the thrill of spending your nights with one. They were in each others orbit in a way now that would be hard to ignore and hard to shake off, and instead of being scared of it Liv was almost relieved. Becker and Camden weren’t the same type of creature, no matter what some people thought, but it was nice to know that someone else was in almost the same boat as he was, wrapped up in a complex relationship with a complex man that most people thought was creepy. Maybe Baron and Liv would have to understand each other better now, simply because they understood each others circumstances. 

He finds himself laughing when she takes her seat on the stool and reacts to his little comment about Becker. Old Man Savage. Maybe it wasn’t fair. He didn’t seem that old, but Liv knew he had to be. Camden was much much older than he looked, and Becker was his older brother, so… something had to be going on there, something that Liv honestly didn’t care enough about to dive too deeply in to. It wasn’t his place to pry, anyway. “Okay, okay.” He laughs, and wrinkles his nose up at her own returning joke about Camden. “Oh, we’re not doing nearly as much sinnin’ as I normally would.” He says, because it feels true in the grand scope of things. “But I’d still count my blessings that you haven’t run in to him in the middle of the night. I always got the idea that the Savage Brothers weren’t super good at lettin’ people in and sharing.”

.

She’s not really sure she’s ever heard him laugh, at least not in this way, which is a strange thought considering they’ve been deskmates for a long time, but then, she would guess he probably hasn’t heard a genuine laugh from her in the office, either. That makes her smile, oddly enough, because even if this is wildly unexpected, and a lot of information to try to process in the middle of the night when she had been asleep ten minutes ago, it’s also nice to see a different side of him, and to let someone see a different side of her, too. Not that she has great plans to go making friends with the rest of the office, but this is different, this is both of them learning something about the other that no one else knows, learning something that’s similar, a connection that literally no one else could share, both of them with their Savages. 

The people around them at large might have been more worried about the moral ambiguity of drinking a consenting coworker’s blood regularly, if they knew the details of this thing Liv and Camden apparently have, but she’s not exactly surprised to hear the implication that maybe there’s not as much sinning in the strictly biblical sense going on between the two of them, as rumors about Liv would have her believe. “What, is he going to make you wait until you put a ring on it to go all the way? Very traditional, I admire the strength,” she says, teasing. She doesn’t really want to consider the gory details of everything, but she could very easily imagine the younger Savage being like some of the girls in her neighborhood when she was a teenager in regards to what did and didn’t count as virginity. But that’s a train of thought she makes herself shake off before it can get any further, taking a sip of her water, now much more wide awake than she’d been planning on being when she’d slipped out of bed.

“Oh definitely. If I’m going to have the talk with Camden, I’d rather do it in the light of day, when I’m wearing pants; even footing,” Baron shakes her head, letting out a little laugh. But there’s a lot of truth to his words. Neither of them have ever given off any indication that they were open people. Understandably, she thinks, considering the circumstances, both known and unknown. She knows logically that they both worked with Allen Snow decades ago on the Eastern Squad, knows that they’re both older than they look, that at this point, anyone they were close to is most likely dead. Easier to keep to themselves, safer to keep to themselves, probably; there are secrets there, that even she doesn’t know yet. But here she is, sitting in the Savage’s kitchen with Deliverance Mayhew in the middle of the night, both of them wearing a shirt not their own. She hadn’t quite let the weight of her being her at all hit until just now. “I’ve always gotten that feeling, too. And yet here we both are. It’s funny that it’s happening now, but it seems like a good thing. Neither of them should only have the other. That’s a lot of pressure to put on one person. And you know, vice versa; for us, too.”

[snowbaron]

cypresscrow​:

She sounds surprised by the offer, and for a half a second he regrets even offering because maybe she really did have no plans on following up on her initial request, maybe she really was going to let it go and never bother him about it again, and maybe it was stupid for him to come and offer without waiting to see what she’d do, but—no, he stops himself from going down that train of thought. Because even though there’s an excitement in her voice that worries him just a little bit, he really does need to keep pushing himself outside of his comfort zone a little at a time, or he’s just going to shut back down, go back to being afraid of all of this all over again.

And he’s so, so tired of being afraid.

He has his wards. He’s prepared himself for this. He’s agreed, now, he’s not going to back down or back out. It’s a step in the right direction, a step towards taking control of his life and his powers instead of letting them control them the way he always has. 

     “I get the feeling I’m going to have to start knowing what I’m doing a little more now, so I might as well start now, right?”

He takes a second, actually rolls up his sleeves, just because he doesn’t know what else to do with his hands, and then he remembers the tarot cards in his pocket, the ones he’s had for so long and never actually learned how to use for their intended purpose. Not that communicating with a ghost is their intended purpose, either, but… Magnolius had said any focus object might help, and they’re pretty much the item he always has with him, the thing he’s had for the longest, so he slips them out of his pocket, giving Baron a wave with them.

    “I don’t know where you want to go. If there’s… somewhere you think he might be hanging around, somewhere that meant something to him? Or just somewhere private, I guess, if you can’t, though I can’t make any promises. I’m still not the kind of medium who can call ghosts back from the great beyond or anything like that.”

.

She’s unexpectedly impressed with this sudden determination from Cypress, no matter how resigned it does seem to be. Or maybe reluctant is the right word. She can’t say what she would have done if she were in his place, or if she had ended up with one of the dozens of unasked for natural abilities that can come up in people with magic, but she thinks she can see a little better now how terrifying it would be to feel like you couldn’t control part of yourself. She can see, even if not fully understand, how some people would want to run away from that. So it feels like a pretty enormous thing, even just from the little she knows about Cypress, that he’s looking to face this head on.

Baron gives him a nod, an encouraging smile, because it does seem like a good thing for him to dive in, and try. 

And she’s more than happy to be the test subject in his work trying to know what he’s doing with his abilities. Even better for both of them. It does make sense that he would offer to try with her rather than some of the other people she knows in the office who might want to try. Hers isn’t necessarily an emotional desire, at least not in the same way others might feel about contacting a dead relative. She just wants information, and Allen Snow wouldn’t be a malevolent spirit, maybe just a bitter one. 

He literally rolls up his sleeves, and then he pulls a tarot deck out as he asks about places Allen Snow might be lingering. The best place is a place they can’t go, but maybe here is enough. “We can’t get into Chief Cooke’s office. But I think anywhere in MACUSA could be significant for him. An occlumency room, maybe? The least chance of being interrupted or overheard,” she reasons. She doesn’t like the idea of doing it here, but she also thinks somewhere in MACUSA that he might’ve been at some point is a better idea that taking Cypress somewhere else. But another realization hits, considering the Eastern Squad offices, and the last time she was there.

“When I was on a case a few weeks ago with Harlow, we were in the Eastern Squad’s offices for some questioning, and... I could smell cigar smoke in his old office, but no one was smoking. It lingered when we left. It’s... it’s happened a few times since. He smoked a cigar right before he died, Cypress,” she says, voice low, the excitement creeping in, as she gets up from her desk, even more ready now. 

[snowbaron]

cypresscrow​:

She sounds like she’s trying so hard to be polite, to be tactful, like she obviously remembers, like she hasn’t stopped thinking about it but is holding herself back from rushing headfirst into asking him again already, like the only reason she hasn’t asked already is because he hasn’t yet offered. 

     “Sort of, yeah,” he answers, and maybe he’s just going to have to get used to feeling like some part of him is always at war with everything he had done before, every rule his past self had made: no giving people false hope, no intentionally contacting the dead because someone asks you to, no doing anything that might make him responsible for someone else having information they shouldn’t have, or didn’t want, or that hurt them in unexpected ways. He can’t say no to everyone forever.

And he’ll never really know what he can do now, if he doesn’t try testing the waters. Everything that had happened in Galveston—the visions, the voices, the way all of it had led them right where they needed to be, even if it had opened him up to other, more malevolent forces—had happened on instinct, pure reaction, his mind seeming to know what to do as soon as he let down the walls he’d built around it to keep everything out. But nothing else had been that instinctual; he was going to need to try now, to get used to pushing himself until he can establish the new boundaries that go along with this change in everything he’s known. 

Baron Snow isn’t Jim; she isn’t haunted, not to the same extent, at least that he knows. Or, if she is, it isn’t to the same extent. He’s never heard voices around her though, granted, he’s been giving her a wide berth since she first asked him about whether or not he’d heard her grandfather around, bristling at her insistent curiosity. There’s a chance nothing will happen; there’s a chance something will, and she’ll get what she was looking for and they’ll both be able to leave it alone with Cypress on slightly surer footing of what he can ask of himself now; there’s a chance it will end in disaster, but that just seems to be the way of things these days. As long as he doesn’t end up possessed by Allen Snow, he thinks whatever happens will probably be alright.

     “I, uh… I still don’t know how to do a real seance or anything, so don’t get your hopes up too high. But I think, if you still want, I stand a better shot at it now than I did when you first asked me. So I figured I’d at least offer.” 

.

Her natural state is not to worry about pleasantries any more than they can put her in a better position to get what she wants, but she’s been a little more aware of herself lately, and she knows that the way she had tried to get something from Crow during their last one on one talk hadn’t been one of the nicest things that she had done. It’s why she’s trying harder now, even if it’s hard to bite back the curiosity of why he might be bringing it up again, hard not to jump to conclusions about things any more than her question already is doing just that.

She’s curious, suddenly, about the case, when he says that it’s kind of about that. She had heard from Hadrian the way things had seemingly changed with Blue’s control of their abilities after the Nashville case, and she has to wonder if something like that had happened with Crow, too. And that’s all but confirmed when he finally goes on, the pause between his words agonizing, patience never a strong suit of hers, either. She doesn’t fully understand how Crow’s whole thing works, she knows the gist of things, by virtue of being nosy and working in the same office, and being lucky enough to having seen it on a case, but she got the impression that it wasn’t easy, before now, for him. But he seems more willing to try, which is a shock, but one she’s glad to hear.

“Really?” she asks, genuinely surprised by the offer. She had assumed that their last conversation on the subject was going to be the end of it, and she had respected that, given up on the idea that there might be some supernatural way to get the answers that she wanted. It had been easy to move on from that idea, after all, considering how much things had started to move so soon after she had posed that question to him. Everything she had gotten, after all, she had gotten through hard work, she was willing to accept that there would be no simple solution to this, either, no calling up the long dead to ask the questions she wanted the answers to. That she would have to find them herself.

But now that he’s offering, now that it seems like whatever happened on that case had maybe given him better control, or a better understanding of his ability, well, Baron has never been someone to pass by an opportunity. Even if it didn’t work, the slim possibility that it would was worth it, especially given that she and Marleigh were in limbo at the moment.

“That would be really amazing,” Baron nods, trying not to get too excited. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to, though, if it’s too difficult, or too dangerous for you. But it would be big, if it worked. It might give me the last piece of this puzzle.”

[snowbaron]

morning, central squad offices // @savagebecker​

The sight of a case file waiting for her when she got in was always something that made her day better, and a quick glance over it as she’s barely even sat down has her all the more ready to jump into things. It’s the sort of case she really does love being sent out on, something challenging not even necessarily because of the solution, but because of those involved. It isn’t going to be easy, the sort of thing she would guess the people on the other side of this are already working hard at finding a scapegoat for them to pin it on. Even if this particular case doesn’t seem like it could be connected to the mess going on in the government right now, she’s heard of the Black Lantern before, heard about the rumored connections to the criminal underworld; it’s a big case.

And she’s pleased, for a dozen reasons, that the name above hers on the case file is Becker’s. This sort of case is always difficult, but her certainty that they’ll solve it and manage to finally tie something concrete to the Black Lantern is all the stronger with them working the case together. She considers just sending Becker a message, meeting outside the hotel, anxious to get started, but it makes more sense to head there together, anyway, and the last time she was at the Foxglove was her meeting with Appius, which makes going feel weighed. She doesn’t want to go alone, and she wants to tell him that was where she had meet the person, too.

So Baron collects her things and gets up, only having been sat down for a few minutes, and heads to Becker’s office, knocking on the slightly ajar door before opening it, glad to see he’s alone. And it’s a pretty nice sight, a tempting sight, him sitting in this office alone. It makes her want to sit down on the desk in front of him, and kiss him. It also makes her want to solve this case perfectly and get a step closer to having an office of her own, too. 

“Good morning. Did you see the file? I’m honored to be the first to get to call you Lieutenant Savage on a case,” she smiles, raising an eyebrow, as she leans against the doorway. “I was thinking we should leave soon, if the Lieutenant is ready to head into the field; get to the scene before anyone else can comb through it and contaminate it.”

[cypresscrow]

a few days after the Galveston case and the impeachment trial, Central Squad offices, @snowbaron​

He’d taken a few days off, after Galveston. A few more than he’d meant to, really. A day to stay home, with HQ, wrapped up in each other and trying to recover for everything that had happened. A day to visit Professor Magnolius again, to thank him for his help, to try to wrap his own head around the way everything felt so different, now. That had been the plan. And then he’d woken up, the next day, with a migraine so bad he’d hardly been able to get out of bed. 

And so it had been almost a week. He’d heard the news of the impeachment trial second-hand, mostly through HQ stopping in to check up on him as he waded through several days of headaches, the rest from Magnolius himself and from the little radio he kept in his office, turning it on to check in periodically as he and Cypress worked their way through a series of temporary wards that would hopefully help keep anything else malevolent from getting into Cypress’ newly-opened mind.

But the part that had him most anxious about returning to the office, in the midst of all that, was the fact that the news that he had a greater control over his powers than he had two weeks ago was bound to filter through the rest of the office, until everyone knew—and all the requests for help he’d pushed off because he couldn’t actually do what people wanted him to do would be front and center again.

Better, he thinks, to face them all head on. Better to just get it over with than to sit around anxiously awaiting the moment someone decides to ask again.

And so he takes a moment, at his desk, to get settled in, to prepare himself. Baron is sitting at her desk, working away diligently on something, and he hopes maybe that will temper her reaction a little bit, when he offers to actually try his hand at the seance she’d wanted him to do for her months ago.

And then he gets up, and goes.

     “Hey, Baron—” he starts, waiting for a moment until he’s sure he has her attention before he keeps talking. “You, uh, remember that favor you asked me, a few weeks ago? The one I said I couldn’t help you with?” A part of him hopes she knows what he’s saying, without him having to spell it out somewhere as public as the middle of the office; a bigger part of him hopes she’s just forgotten altogether, but he doubts he’ll be so lucky. 

[snowbaron]

Despite things seemingly having slowed down from the outside, dead ends hit on both public and private fronts, she’s only taken it all as a sign to focus on everything else more intently. Somehow, too, it feels like having things outside of work to care about just makes her all the more motivated. 

Waiting in limbo for more information to turn up for either her or Marleigh, and knowing that the sudden disappearance of Judith Eames has to have something to do with Appius, all things considered, it feels like she’s looking for clues everywhere. They’ve seen, after all, the way old cases were tied up in everything decades ago, when Allen Snow was dealt seemingly the same hand as Judith Eames for making a mistake. The problem with that, though, is that there’s no way to know until a case has been nearly solved, if they’re doing things similarly to how they had back them.

In the absence of much else to do, she’s taken to combing through all of the cases closed in the past few weeks since Scotland to see if anything seems strange or suspicious. Unfortunately, though, despite one or two sticking out, they don’t seem to be because they’re the work of Appius. With a few new case files of her own, though, she’s hoping that maybe one of them might end up related to this whole mess, even if it seems wishful thinking, looking at the cases she’s got coming up.

Either way, she’s wholly engrossed in one of the files this morning, when her train of thought is interrupted by Crow. She had heard that the case he had been on had done something to change things, had looked through the file herself, searching for other things, but she hadn’t actually considered what that might mean until she’s looking up at him, and he goes on. 

“I do remember. And I apologize for that, it was tactless,” she says, offering him a sympathetic look, because that feels like what she should do here, despite the questions on the tip of her tongue. “Is this about the case you just finished up?”

[snowbaron]

aurornorwood​:

The unanswered owl messages were troubling, but at the very least it gave them some kind of timeline. It may have been in Shelby’s nature to not answer back right away, but not answering two messages means that whatever happened likely occurred during that time frame. 

“Could you describe their owl?” He asks. If Shelby’s owl was still missing they could try looking for it too. If the owl could be found it was likely that Shelby couldn’t be much further away unless someone had taken the creature. 

“Uh, yeah, his name is Uriel. He’s a barn owl,” seeming to realize that Jim was looking for a more concrete description, Ian continues, “he’s really white in the face and chest. All of his tan feathers are on his back. And he’s missing one of his right talons.” 

The coloring of the bird didn’t seem too far off from the standard barn owl, but the talon thing should help them identify the bird if they do happen to come across it. 

When Ian replies to Baron’s question, Jim feels like he’s beginning to get a better idea of just the kind of free spirited travel lover Shelby was, which made this case all the more difficult. There was really no telling if Shelby even made it to Montrose, by the sounds of it it could be just as likely that another place caught their interest and they skipped over the town entirely. But for now Montrose was the next best place to look after they finished talking to Ian. 

“Shelby usually goes to places that have some kind of urban legend or folk tale attached to it. If there’s been a cryptid sighting somewhere chances are they’ve visited the place themself just to see what they could learn about it. I don’t know what in the hell they’d heard about Montrose, but when they first mentioned the place they said it was going to be the ‘greatest adventure’ they’d ever been on. And I guess that’s why I’ve been holding out hope for this long, you know? I figured they were off having the time of their life somewhere, and just got too caught up in it to write me back.” 

Ian’s answer didn’t give them any more clues as to just what Montrose could possibly be holding within its borders, but he feels like its enough to tell them that Shelby had to have passed through the town in some shape or form. 

Looking over to Baron, he lets her ask whatever questions she still may have for Ian before turning back to him. “We’ll let you know as soon as we can what we’ve found out,” he replies, “we’ll do everything we can do find your sibling.” 

They weren’t the most comforting words, he knew. But he also didn’t want to lie to the kid and give him any false hope. Jim knew he and Baron would do everything in their power to find Shelby, it was what state they’d find the young wix in that troubled him the most though. 

.

At the very least, it paints a clear picture of when things must have gone wrong, and it also gives them something to be on the lookout for, because she doesn’t think it’s going to be easy to find Shelby just going off of what little they have in the case file. But an owl with distinctive features, that’s something they can look for, and ask around about, too. She has to agree with Ian thinking that someone probably got the messages even if not Shelby themself, but it feels strange that his owl returned to him empty handed if someone did receive the message. Then again, if Shelby really was in Montrose, which they have to consider they were at least there for a bit, or else they’ve got nothing to go on at all, it seems strange that none of the residents would seem to know much about a potential missing person there.

Unless, of course, they had gone in secretly. Unless they had maybe found something out about this town, why it was kept so cut off even from the rest of the wixen world, and they had wanted to go in without any of the residents knowing. It’s just a theory, of course, but she does think that as Ian goes on, telling them what Shelby had said about Montrose before leaving, that might not be such a bad theory to entertain.

After all, with neither of them having heard of the town before, all they have to go off of is what Ian tells them Shelby had said beforehand. It paints a clearer picture of it, even if not the specifics at the very least, knowing the sort of places that they usually went. Cryptids, urban legends, folk tales, she wouldn’t be surprised if there were strange rumors about a town kept so hidden from the world. 

Unfortunately, though, there doesn’t seem to be much more to get from Ian without seeing the town for themselves and starting an on the ground investigation.

She’s got a bad feeling about their chances of finding Shelby unharmed, but they’re going to try. Baron nods along with Jim. 

“Yeah. Thanks. I just hope you guys can find them,” he says with a little sigh.

“We’re not going to stop looking until we have something. We’ll keep you updated. Thank you so much for your help, Ian,” Baron nods, before giving him one last goodbye and getting up from the booth, heading towards the door. Time feels of the essence here, especially when so much has passed already. Once they’re outside again, she looks at Jim. “I don’t have a good feeling about this. It sounds like they at least went through the town, but it sounded like from the case file the mayor doesn’t think it’s possible anyone’s missing.”

[snowbaron]

aurornorwood​:

The fact that Baron hadn’t heard of the town either before reading the case file wasn’t too much of a surprise, but still didn’t help his unease about the situation. Places like that, that worked so hard to keep themself a secret, even from the rest of the wixen world, generally didn’t much enjoy newcomers poking around their town. The fact that they needed a “guide” as it were, spoke to that fact as well. 

Whatever was going on here, he figures it’ll take the two of them nosing around the place much closer than their guide or the mayor would like, but it would probably be the only way they could figure out what on earth happened to Shelby and where they were. 

After taking a seat down in the far booth, it isn’t too much longer until a wix who he quickly recognizes to be Ian Horton from their case file walks in. The kid looks distraught in a way Jim can sympathize with, he’s clearly shaken up and worried sick about his missing sibling. Missing persons cases generally didn’t end well, unfortunately he’d been on more than enough to know that by now, but he did hope this would be one of the few exceptions to the rule, both for Shelby’s sake and Ian’s. 

“It doesn’t sound like vague bullshit at all,” Jim insists. Based off the wix’s quick shift into taking the defense, Jim can only assume the first pair of aurors Ian likely talked to weren’t all that willing to listen to him. Which Jim isn’t particularly sure why, unless they genuinely thought Shelby was a runaway, they’d been reportedly missing for weeks though, not days. And without so much as a sign of them at that. 

“We know you officially reported Shelby missing to the Mississippi division yesterday, but when was the last time you’d heard from them?” He asks, figuring they might as well try to get a more clear timeline before they begin talking to anyone in Montrose. 

“Fuck… it’s been weeks,” Ian lets out a sigh, “I want to say around Valentine’s Day? They sent me like this joke of a love poem through their owl. It was like ‘Roses are red, Violets are blue, I’m so glad I got all the good lucks in the family, fuck you.’ Which sounds mean, but that’s just how we are with one another, you know?” 

Jim didn’t have a sibling but he spent more than enough time around his father and Camden as a child to understand the many facets to a relationship like that. 

“They sent it through their owl?” He asks, “Did the owl return back to them after it delivered the poem?” 

.

She immediately feels awful for Horton, seeing just how worried he is about his sibling, but it makes sense, of course. It’s been a while since she’s been on a missing persons case, though, and she had forgotten, or maybe blocked out, just how hard it is not to get emotionally affected on them, seeing what those who are close to the victims feel. His worry just makes her more determined to figure this out, but she’s worried that the solution they find––because they will find out what happened to Shelby––is going to cause even more pain than their disappearance is. But she doesn’t linger on that worry, because it won’t do any of them good. Instead she listens closely, nodding along with Jim as he reassures him that they understand, and believe him.

In other cases, maybe it would seem strange that it took so long for him to report his sibling missing, but in this case, she thinks that it fits with everything. He certainly doesn’t seem to be lying to them for any reason, doesn’t seem to stand to gain anything from keeping the disappearance unreported for so long. It just sounds like he genuinely believed that they would either turn up, or get in contact with him.

And the fact that the last message they received from Shelby seemed normal just seems like more reason for him not to have worried.

“I sent a message back with their owl. Didn’t see the owl again after that, but it wasn’t a surprise, at first. When another two weeks passed without word from them, I tried to send them another message, just to see when they’d be coming back home. My owl came back with nothing, though. I don’t know if they got my other message, or if someone else might have in the town,” he explains shaking his head. “I waited a few days, but it’s not like them not to reply.”

That catches her attention, that there were at least two messages that he had sent that had gone unanswered. Surely someone in the town would have seen the owls, if not the messages themselves.

“How long would you say they were in town before you got the Valentine’s message?”

“Not too long, a few days probably. They didn’t have a timeline when they left, so I’m not sure how much they did around here, before heading into Montrose. They sometimes like to ask around, get information from locals outside, before going into the towns themselves.”

“Did Shelby say much about Montrose before leaving? Why they were interested in visiting that town in particular, if it seemed different on paper from the other places they visited before?”

[snowbaron]

aurornorwood​:

He chuckles lightly at her remark, glad to see her gut reaction to the truck was relief rather than disgust. Peering back into the bed in question, he shakes his head when his eyes fall on its dirty floor, “Not as long as you don’t mind a few pieces of hay stuck to you afterwards.” 

Of all the aurors that could be partnered with him on this case, he’s glad it was Baron whose name followed his on the case file. He hadn’t had much time to talk or check in with her since Scotland, and while he doubts they won’t have much time on this case either to do so, it was still nice to work alongside each other. They made a good team back in Scotland, and he was glad to have someone like her on his side on a case like this one that had so many unknowns involved. 

Falling into step beside her, he glances down at her notebook, seemingly already filled with a good deal of notes on the case they’d only just started. He’d never been much of a notetaker himself, usually he liked to feel things out first, get to know the people behind the typed names on the file before he began building theories. Just as he was with Athena though, and her countless note she’d always take, he certainly welcomed the additional perspective. 

“No, I haven’t,” he confesses as they near the diner, “which doesn’t exactly make me feel any easier about this thing. I thought I’d heard of at least every wixen town in our jurisdiction if not visited them at least once or twice. But I can’t say I’ve ever heard of the place.” 

Looking over towards her he gives her a small shrug, wishing he had something else to offer here. When they get to the diner’s front door he opens it for her before heading inside, nodding his head in the direction of a booth in the back once they do. 

“The best we can hope to get from Horton is a better idea of who Shelby is. If we can understand her better we might be able to figure out the places or people she would have likely gone to first.”

.

She had been hoping that he might have heard something about the town, even just rumors, if not actually knowing anything about it himself, but it’s not a surprise to hear that he doesn’t actually know anything about it. It seems like a well guarded secret, the sort of town that enjoys its privacy. That could of course be for harmless reasons, or it could be something else entirely, and the fact that they’ve got a missing person who’s last whereabouts were that town makes her inclined to lean towards the latter. But they won’t know anything until they can see it themselves, unfortunately.

“I haven’t heard of it before now, either. Not the most comforting feeling. Agreed, though, hopefully he’ll be able to give some insight on what they were doing, with all of their trips around the country,” she nods, as they find a booth near the back at the place, and sit down. 

There wasn’t much detail in the file about Horton besides the initial report that he had filed about his missing sibling, but that wasn’t unusual. She expects that talking to him in person about Shelby will paint a clearer picture, like Jim says, of what they were doing, and the sort of places they went before heading to Montrose.

It’s only another minute before the door to the diner opens again, and Ian Horton comes in; he spots them and heads back towards their table, hesitating slightly. He looks worried sick, that’s clear as day, and it makes her hope even more that they can find Shelby in Montrose.

“Are you the aurors?” he asks, looking between them.

“We are. I’m Inspector Baron Snow, and this is Inspector Jim Norwood. Thanks for meeting here with us, please sit down,” she says, offering him a small smile, trying to help him feel a little more at ease.

He nods vaguely, and sits down. “Yeah, of course, thanks,” he says. Before she can prompt him with any questions, he keeps going, though. “I know it sounds like a lot of vague bullshit, when they do this all the time, but this trip is different. Usually Shelby will let someone know when they’re coming back, but it’s been radio silence. It’s not like them, and this town, I don’t know, usually I’ve at least heard of the places they go.”

[aurornorwood]

roadside diner outside montrose, mississippi, afternoon, @snowbaron​

When he gets to the diner that he was scheduled to meet both Baron and the brother to their missing person at, Jim does so by way of his old Ford pick-up truck. It wasn’t that he had a particular itch to drive that day, especially when it involved having to apparate both him and the truck to Mississippi. Instead, it had more to do with what the next part of their case involved. Yvonne Sinclair, their guide for this strange trip into a town not found on any map, told them she’d meet them “near the closest main road”, which on paper sounded fine, but when he realized that the closest main road to Montrose was eight miles long, he figured he’d do both his and Baron’s feet a favor and bring them something to help them in that journey. 

Pulling up to the roadside diner, the old pick-up grinds to a stop just in front of the diner where Baron looked to be already waiting for him. “I figured since we’re meeting at a truck-stop, I might as well show up in one of my own,” he greets with a small chuckle, as he shuts the truck’s door behind him. If this case had happened before Scotland, he’d have been concerned whether the other auror would even step foot into the thing, but after their shared experience together, and seeing how she’d clearly been taught how to use a gun before, he figures this was far from the first pick-up she’d been in. 

“But really, I thought it’d help us out later,” he adds by way of explanation, “that way we won’t be spending half the day walking around looking for Sinclair and wherever this town is.” 

This hadn’t been the first case he and Snow ever worked on together, but it was the first one since Scotland, and he’s fairly certain since she became an inspector. She’d done well for herself in that time though, clearly following in Langer’s path with her swift rise in ranks. He’d never held that same ambition himself, but he’s glad to see Snow has taken to it all so well. 

[snowbaron]

She’s probably more thrilled than she should be to out in the field after what feels like too long since her last case. It feels like most of her work has been of the paper variety in the past few weeks, and even if life has been busier than it ever has before outside of the office, she’s missed being able to focus on fixing a problem, solving a case. It’s funny to realize, after years being convinced of the opposite, that having things she cares about outside of work, people she cares about, only makes her more motivated, instead of taking away from work. And she’s glad that it’s a case with Jim, too, even if the case itself feels strange, the sort of thing that has a lot going on beneath the surface that they won’t be able to see until they’re in this town that no one can find. A partner she knows she can trust feels paramount on this case, and all the better as a chance to talk to him, having been too distracted since Scotland to touch base.

So Baron is positively raring to go, gets to the diner they’ve agreed to meet too early, no surprise, notebook already filled with notes. What she isn’t expecting, though, is to see Jim pull up in a pick up truck, and it takes her by surprise enough that she lets out a laugh as he gets out and closes the door. It’s smart, though, his reasoning, given the very vague directions they have to meet their guide, another part of this that leaves her feeling a little off already.

“That’s great. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a pickup truck. Can I ride in the bed?” she asks, jokingly, looking it over. His idea was very welcome, considering her penchant for heels. 

She doesn’t linger on it, though, ready to jump into the nitty gritty of things, especially in their few minutes before the initial reporter arrived. Baron pulls of her notebook and flips to the page with her notes on the case as they start towards the dinner, glancing over things, even though she all but has it memorized.

“Our victim’s brother should be here in just a few minutes, but honestly that case file was so bare bones, there’s not that much to go over without seeing the town and talking to the residents ourselves. Have you ever heard of Montrose before now?”

[snowbaron]

savagebecker​:

He’s tempted, to ask for more information about what she’s found—what she’s learned about Eames, about Allen Snow’s death, the rest of it. He’s tempted to ask where the breakthrough had come from, how she’d suddenly gotten so deep into answers he knows she’s been looking for for as long as he’s known her, answers he had wished he could have given her years ago and had never actually had. But then she kisses him, smiling, in that way of hers, so certain and sure, so easy, and he thinks maybe it’s a conversation for another time, something to wonder aloud about another day, when there isn’t pasta and wine and the promise of such a nice evening stretched out before the two of them.

     “Oh, adjacent, for sure,” he answers, between bites of pasta. “You haven’t mentioned a single one of our coworkers, and it isn’t technically a case you’re working on, I mean, really, Baron, it’s practically a hobby as far as you and I are concerned, I don’t know that we can do much better than that.” 

It’s so easy, just to talk with her, about work or not work, about anything at all. To joke with her, to let down every last defense he has, every instinct he’s developed over the past forty years to keep himself and Camden safe, to keep anyone from getting close enough to disturb their carefully-kept balance. He doesn’t think Baron will disturb it any more than Liv already has, but he also finds himself thinking that he wouldn’t mind it if she did. Not when her being here makes him feel like he really doesn’t have to be on his own, doesn’t have to be Atlas holding their entire precarious lives on his shoulders alone. 

     “I know I can’t. Here I was planning on dazzling you with exciting facts about Italian cuisine for about three minutes before promptly running out of things to talk about that weren’t work.”

.

There’s plenty more on her mind about what she’s found, plenty that she wants to tell him, but oddly enough she actually doesn’t want to focus on all of that tonight. They have time, after all, there’s always later, or tomorrow, or the next day. She doesn’t want to linger on all of that stress and worry, feels lighter already from just telling him that she’s found something, that she’s getting close to what she’s been dying to know for years and years. That fees like enough for tonight, enough to give her mind the space to fully focus on this, on the lovely dinner, and the good wine, on Becker. She’ll tell him all of the details later, because she knows that he’ll probably be able to offer better advice and insight than anyone else could, with all of his experience and expertise, but not tonight.

She just wants to linger in this little bubble they’ve created for now, smile back at him as they keep eating, as he goes on assuring her that it’s just work adjacent. It’s all just so easy, somehow, and she’s not really sure how, but it feels right, and maybe it makes sense, too, knowing how well they work together, that they’d fit together so easily like this, too. But it’s still a little surreal to have this with him, in the best sense. It still sends a wave of warmth through her to hear him say her name, the way it sounds a little fond, a little soft, even with the teasing, in his voice.

“It is what I spend most of my time outside of work hours doing; definitely the closest thing to a hobby I have,” she says, shaking her head with a little laugh. Maybe with anyone else, that would seem like a bad thing, but she’s well aware that a not insignificant part of why this all feels so easy is because he understands, because he’s the same in that. And that’s why it’s all the more meaningful that they can relax like this, let go of all the worries and pressure even just for a few hours, and not have to worry. It’s not something she’s ever really capable of doing, or wants to do, except here, with him.

“I’m sure I would’ve been positively dazzled by your Italian cuisine facts. But honestly, I don’t think I’d be sitting here eating your pasta if you had much more than three minutes of non-work related things to bring up in the first place.”

[snowbaron]

deliverancemayhew​:

It feels like everything about him has been revealed to Baron, just with a glance of her eyes over him. He knows himself pretty well, and he’s no great mystery. He has depths and hidden chapters, but the basics of him and his persoanlity are easy to see with a glance. Baron has stumbled across a page that wasn’t supposed to be in his book, a relationship that they’ve been keeping carefully hoarded for themselves. Liv and Camden, Camden and Liv, all the rules that they break for this strange and grand thing, this almost-relationship that they’ve stumbled in to somehow. Baron looks at him and it seems like she see’s him now, clearer than she ever has before. 

She sees him. But he sees her too. He’s reading her book right back at her. 

And its pretty good to make her laugh. That’s not something he’s ever really done before. That’s not something he ever thought he’d get to. He always got the idea that he wasn’t really Baron’s style, that she never really thought all that much about Liv. But he’s not sure if thats true, or if its just the way that he thinks everyone kind of hates him, unless they tell him differently. She’s smiling at him nw, so maybe he’s not such a lost cause, maybe Baron is someone that he can be friendly with. He’d make her life a living hell if she ever let slip to anyone higher up the ranks about him and Cam, but right now she’s good. She won’t do it, anyway. She likes her Savage too much, and he’s pretty sure Becker would do worse than make her life hell if she hurt Camden.

And she makes him laugh too, because thats really fucking weird to think about. Him being the reason she’s fucking Becker Savage. Or whatever else they’re doing. Dating in a different sense than seems possible for him and Camden. He leans against the counter, sips his own water, and smiles despite himself. “Gee. You’re welcome. I think that means you owe me a favour.” He says, because if it really has been a while since she got laid, she definitely owes him one. He finds himself shaking his head, laughing again. “Fuck, Snow. Only if you promise that Old Man Savage isn’t gonna give me the vampire sex talk again.” He shakes his head, still mortified by that particular memory. “Last time I was in here with another person. I’m sure you can imagine how terrible that experience was.” 

.

It feels like she’s seeing a side of Deliverance that she had never considered might even be there. It’s nothing against him in particular, it’s just that she genuinely rarely gives her coworkers thought outside of work, outside of what she sees in the office, or on cases. They’ve been deskmates for a long while, but that doesn’t mean all that much in terms of knowing him better than anyone else in the office for her. All it’s meant is that sometimes she’ll talk to him slightly more than someone else, since there’s the element of convenience not having to get up to ask for something. But she thinks that she could’ve made some guesses about him, just from what she had seen in the office, and this is not something she ever could have guessed she would find.

Now that they’re both settling into the idea that they’re both here, and here for very similar reasons, it feels a little easier to relax, and it seems like he’s relaxing, too. And it’s clear as day that this sort of thing isn’t necessarily normal for Liv, but that that makes it all the more meaningful. Or maybe it’s more meaningful and that’s what it’s not normal. Either way, it feels a little like looking back at a strange, unexpected reflection of herself, because she feels that, too. Everything she’s ended up finding with Becker is different, and new, and important in a way other people rarely managed to feel for her.

The playing field she hadn’t even realized she was stepping onto feels even, but more than that, the idea of this connection, no matter how bizarre and unexpected it is, isn’t one she minds. In fact, she likes the idea of someone knowing, and understanding, and she thinks maybe that might be something Liv could use, too, much more than her, given the consequences of someone else realizing what he has with Camden. So she lets herself move forward to sit down on the stool at the island counter, lets herself smile as she shakes her head. “I think you’re right, I owe you big time for this one,” she laughs.  “Oh, god, stop, I don’t even want to know. If you call Becker Old Man Savage, though, I’m not gonna defend you from more embarrassment. I’m lucky I haven’t run into Camden while here, yet. But I can only assume what I would get is less of a sex talk, and more of a you’re sinning talk, right? Despite what you’re apparently up to.”

[snowbaron]

savagebecker​:

He can see the shift in the expression on her face a moment before she starts to speak, can see her considering it, weighing whether or not she’s going to say what she wants to say. He knows what she’s going to say a moment before she does—at least, the first part, the part about breaking her half-promise not to talk about work, if not the rest of the surprising news that follows it. And he wouldn’t stop her, couldn’t, not when he can tell, from the look on her face, that it’s something she needs to say. He doesn’t care, all that much, about not talking about work—the fact that they’ve both made the effort is enough, feels like the first impossible step towards something. But Rome wasn’t built in a day; no one changes overnight. Hard enough to teach an old dog like him new tricks. 

And what she says… Merlin, it’s no wonder she needs to talk about it, and he’s glad she feels comfortable enough to do it with him. He’d known Allen Snow, yes, had worked with him for many years, had respected him and gotten along with him well enough; he couldn’t have hardly not, given they were on the same Squad, both from Kentucky, had so much to talk about when they did. If Snow’s death had happened any other time, had it not followed quite so closely on the heels of Becker’s entire life being uprooted by a case Snow had sent him and Camden on, he might have been the one in her position, trying to follow up on the mysterious circumstances of the man’s death, trying to put enough pieces that everything that had felt wrong about it clicked into place.

But he hadn’t been. Camden had been in crisis, and so he had been in crisis too, a desperate attempt to put life back together for the two of them. Every time Baron had asked him questions, before, about her grandfather, he had shrugged her off, or told her some meaningless anecdote, because the truth was he didn’t know anything about Snow’s death, or apparently all that much about his life. He’d never dreamed Baron was this close to learning something he’d never bothered to investigate himself. 

It’s… a lot, to take in, all at once, in his dimly lit kitchen, over wine and pasta, but he’s glad she said something, even if he isn’t sure where to start with all of it. Because what she says about Judith Eames is enough to be overwhelming, without even beginning to touch the second part of it, of how Baron apparently feels about him, so in line with how he’s beginning to realize he feels about her. 

     “You’ll get there,” he says, reaching out to run a thumb across her cheek, and he believes every word of it. Because she’s incredible, and she’s worked so hard for so long, and if anyone in the world could do it, it would be Baron Snow. He’s fairly certain she could do anything, even the impossible. “I know you will. I’ll help you however I can, if you need me to. And if you don’t, well, I’m not exactly going anywhere.”

.

It’s easy to believe it, when Becker says it, and reaches out, runs his thumb over her cheek. She’s been trying to keep the confidence in this that she’s had for so long, without even a fraction of the information that she has now, but it’s been wavering a little, since the meeting with the person wearing Allen Snow’s face. It all goes so much deeper than she had realized, and the danger feels so real now, especially playing that game, acting as if she wanted to join them for genuine purposes. She wouldn’t have gotten half as far as she has without the ability to remain confident in the face of the unknown, in the face of danger, but this feels different, and it’s been weighing on her, even knowing she has Marleigh in this, too, that she doesn’t have to do it on her own. 

Becker, though, wouldn’t say something he doesn’t believe wholly. And she respects what he thinks more than most people, because he’s always given her just as much respect, too. If he says she’ll get there, then she has no choice but to believe it, too, to prove him right. His confidence in her only bolsters her own in herself.

And knowing he’s willing to help means something, too. The thought of putting someone else on her growing list of people she cares for in danger because of this isn’t one she likes, but knowing that he’s here, no matter what, it’s a nice thing, when she’d been doing this alone for so long. She’s certain that he means more than just that, though, with his words. 

“Thank you, Becker,” she says, hand moving to his wrist for a moment, voice a little soft. Because she meant what she said, too, that it’s new, but feels just as important that she wants to tell him all of this. That she knows he’s not going anywhere, that he feels something here, too. “I’m not going anywhere, either.”

Baron leans over, and brings her lips to his in a soft kiss, that feeling behind it. After a second of indulgence, though, she smiles into the kiss, pulls back just slightly.  “I like this pasta and this house too much to give up my access to either,” she teases, pressing one more kiss to his lips before sitting back, and taking a sip of her wine. “Do you think that counts as work-related, or just work adjacent?”

[snowbaron]

savagebecker​:

     “Well, you’ve seen mostly my rooms; I dread the day you see the other wing and understand what I have to put up with,” he jokes; there’s nothing wrong with Camden’s sense of design, really, except that it’s rather somber, but he can’t imagine her having occasion to see any of the rooms Camden had decorated for himself—he barely goes in them, himself, Camden more likely to haunt his study when he wanted for company than for Becker to cross to his brother’s rooms. Maybe it’s habit, the long years between Becker’s injury and Camden’s transformation where Camden had been living in a home of Becker’s he had no claim to of control over.

So much of their lives feels like habit, in that way; with this many years behind them it seems foolish to fix what isn’t broken—and yet, that’s exactly what they’ve both been doing, lately, realizing that maybe things had been broken where they hadn’t anticipated they were, both of them patching over those cracks with new fixes. Liv, spending far too many nights here for Becker’s liking. And this, of course, Baron, laughing with him and smiling with him in the kitchen over homemade pasta.

He watches her, curiously, as she takes her first bite, appraising it. She makes a little face, as she tastes it, eyes closed, deep in thought, clearly enjoying it, and he likes that look on her, too. She kisses him, and he can’t help but catch her face with one hand, for just a moment, catch her lips in his, quick and easy. 

     “Well, we make a pretty good team otherwise, so I can’t imagine we wouldn’t be just as great in the kitchen.” He indulges the thought, for a moment, imagines showing her how to execute each step, imagines the focus and precision she would apply with each one, her careful hands kneading the dough, shaping the pasta. Imagines, for just a second, kissing her, against the kitchen island, hands covered in flour, before shaking the thought out of his head so he can focus on the moment. “Whenever you’re free, I think we can arrange something.” He’d set aside almost anything, he thinks, to make time, if she wanted, to spend a few precious hours with her here in the kitchen, laughing together, eating together, making something together. 

.

Baron can imagine just what Camden’s rooms are probably like, probably a little dark, maybe a little depressing, certainly a little Anne Rice, even if he doesn’t realize it. What she can’t imagine is what it was like, the two of them choosing this house, and then decorating it, splitting up the rooms, decided who could claim what. But she likes thinking about that sort of stuff, knowing how human both of them are, despite what most would think. Knowing she has the privilege of seeing it, because she’s somehow been able to understand Becker than most other people she’s met as her time on the squad. She likes the idea of doing something like that, standing in this beautiful kitchen cooking together, learning how to make something delicate and beautiful, something of their own creation together, kissing him like this, laughing like this. She likes the idea of doing so many other normal things, seeing what all they make a pretty good team on. She’s pretty sure they would make a good team in anything they could try together.

“Then I’ll be sure to find time to squeeze you in, busy schedule lately,” she teases with a little smile, taking a sip of wine. She lets the silence sit for a moment, enjoying the food, the wine, enjoying sitting close with Becker. It all feels so simple, but so very big all at once, because it’s not like anything else she’s ever found before. It’s comfortable, and normal, the sort of thing she’s sure most everyone else has had before, but the sort of thing she’s never really had. And that makes her want to do things she never would have, before. Because it has been busy lately, and she wants him to know why.

With her telekit safely at home, and the wards around the Savages’ home probably a dozen times stronger than hers or Marleigh’s between the two of them, she feels safe bringing it up here. She wants to bring it up here, too, because this is enormous in her life right now, has been since before she even met Becker, she wants him to know what’s happening in her life. And she also wants him to know how new it is for her to have someone she actually wants to tell, and not just because of trust, or benefit, or anything so practical.

“I’m gonna break that maybe, but I’ll make it up to you after dinner, I promise, but... I found the group Allen Snow was in with. The group he died to keep secret. It’s bad, corruption on a national scale bad. Judith Eames most likely sent us to Scotland to die on this group’s orders so she could become president bad. I’ve spent half my life trying to get this close to figuring it out, and if I keep going now, I think I’ll get there,” she tells him. “The funny thing, though, is that this is the first time something else has felt just as important, like my world might not end if even I keep going and don’t find anything else. And that’s pretty big for me. You’re pretty big for me, Becker.”

[snowbaron]

savagebecker​:

He slips easily onto the stool next to her once he fetches silverware from the drawer, the two  stools close enough in their respective positions.at the counter that his knee touches hers just slightly as they sit there. It’s more comfortably than the dining room, in myriad ways; he’s always preferred eating here to the formal table and chairs, mostly because it’s an awfully big table and he’s nearly always eating alone, except for the rare nights where Camden decides to keep him company while he eats dinner. Usually he sits here, a file spread out in front of him, reading or making notes, killing two birds with one stone.

It’s nice, not to multitask. Not to split his attention, except between her gentle, warm presence and the taste of the food and the wine. Other than his study, the kitchen his his favorite room in the house; under utilized for such a beautiful space, the white marble of the countertops, the rich wood of the cabinets. More space than anyone could need, to cook for one night after night, which makes the chance to cook for her all the sweeter. He waves his wand at the lights, and they dim a little, casting a warm glow across the room; he should have set out candles. 

     “You made the right choice,” he says, leaning close for a moment. “The dining room makes me feel like I’m in some horrid vampire novel. Why I let Camden decorate the dining room is beyond me, but I was a younger man then.” Only several years younger, really; they changed houses as often as they changed squads. But they’d all started to blend together, all the same. 

And it’s so nice, to fill up another space in this house, with her, one he frequents, so that maybe when he comes downstairs to make his coffee on mornings she isn’t here he’ll be able to picture her, sat just there, just so, smiling at him, laughing that soft little laugh, looking at him like that. To imagine her not just in his bed, or his study, but here, too, feels like a gift, feels like something that makes the house feel alive in a way it never really has before, so empty and alone. 

     “You’ll have to be honest, about how the pasta is,” he adds, after a moment, as he passes a set of silverware and a napkin to her before setting one down for himself. “I haven’t cooked for anyone who eats real food in years.

.

Once he sits down, knees touching just a little, she lets her hand move briefly to his leg, just a light touch, but lingering. She wants to be close to him like this, wants to be touching. The idea of a beautiful, formal dinner with him is appealing, too, but just now this feels pretty perfect to her. Everything has felt so big lately in ways that are wholly out of her hands, and she hates feeling like she doesn’t have control. It’s nice to have something that feels important, but small, comforting, totally in her hands, and in the hands of someone she finds herself trusting rather wholly. This is exactly what she needs tonight, something close and intimate, to be near enough that she can reach out and touch him, when she wants.

And it’s clear that he agrees, that this is the sort of night he needs, too. He’s made her dinner, invited her into his home, but she wants to take care of him, too, in whatever way that might mean tonight, or any other night. 

“We all have regrets,” she laughs softly, at the thought of Camden decorating the dining room. The thought of the two brothers doing something so normal, even, as deciding on decorations for their house. She feels a little smug about getting to see Becker like this, when it seems like such a rare thing, relaxed, so human. “Every room I’ve seen is beautiful, though. The whole house is a dream. My apartment is fine, but being able to spread out is so nice, having space for everything you want.”

It’s been nice in a dozen different ways to be able to spend more and more time here with Becker. It feels like she fits here, and with Becker, nothing about it feeling strange.

“Oh, I will. I don’t make a habit of telling lies,” she says, raising an eyebrow as she takes the silverware, echoing his own words from what feels like a small lifetime back at him, a teasing lilt to her voice. Baron makes a big show of putting the napkin in her lap, and getting the perfect fork full of pasta, before taking a slow bite, closing her eyes as she tastes. And it’s fantastic, no surprise at all, probably one of the best meals she’s had in a long, long time, but she may be biased by the company.

“I think it’ll do,” she shrugs, once she’s swallowed. She pauses, pats her lips with the napkin, and leans over to press a small kiss to the corner of his mouth. “It’s delicious. Next time, I want you to teach me. I think we’d make a pretty good chef team.”

[snowbaron]

marleighmcmahon​:

They’re half worried and half relieved that she’s still planning on going. From what Beth had said, it would be maybe even more dangerous than they anticipated, but also if they hadn’t already tried to bribe or drive Baron away, there really was a chance they might get something, something more than anyone else they could find had found out about the group and lived to tell the tale. 

Because all the warnings, all the cloak and dagger, all the bullshit… it’s just made them want to know more. They’ve always been one for conspiracy theories, always been one not to trust people or systems or anything like that blindly. It takes a long time to earn their trust, and half a second to break it, and they’d known MACUSA was corrupt long before any of this started to fall into place, before Judith Eames revealed herself to be exactly the snake they’d always thought she probably was. 

And there’s a part of them that just wants to know if there’s anything worth salvaging, here, anything worth trying to fix, anything worth holding onto.

And funny enough, Baron feels like one of the things they want to hold onto.

     “Pfft,” they breathe out, shoving their hands into the pockets of their coat. “I already told you I’m not going anywhere. She was nice and all, but I’m not letting some old lady stop me from sticking with this.” 

     “Just… check in with me, as soon as you’re out of there, alright? Last thing I need is to spend all night worrying something happened.”

.

She lets out a small huff of a laugh, not surprised by Marleigh’s answer, but relieved nonetheless. It’s so strange to think how much she wants to keep having help in this, after spending so long wholly wrapped up in it alone. No one else has ever had a real interest, when they’ve found out about her grand lifetime investigations, though, which feels wild now, realizing just how deep this thing goes. It seems like other aurors would be more curious, or even just other MACUSA employees. That’s what they were supposed to do, after all, keep people safe, and keep things fair. And the more they learn, the clearer it is that there are many, many people very high up who aren’t doing either of those things.

This meeting is going to be dangerous, probably the most dangerous thing they’ve done so far to try to get information, but she thinks the risk is worth it, to find more, to get closer to concrete information. Even if they can expose one person, help stop even one head of this many headed beast, then it’s got to count for something. And maybe, ultimately, they can set it up so that other people can keep on their path, just like they’re continuing where Beth had been stopped.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re going a little soft, there,” she teases a little, but the smile is genuine, knowing that they care, too, just like she does, expectedly, but very much sincerely. She’s glad Marleigh isn’t going to let any of what Beth said deter them. She’s glad they’re sticking with her in this.

“I’ll let you know as soon as I’m out of there and safe. If you don’t hear from me by morning, well... hey, at least we’ll have concrete proof that Appius is a criminal organization. That’ll count for something.”

[snowbaron]

marleighmcmahon​:

     “Yeah, thank you for agreeing to meet with us,” they add, to Baron’s own thanks, and they’re glad they can tell that even if they didn’t get much, here, they and Baron are still on the same page: all information is good information, but neither of them seems likely to heed Beth’s advice here and move on from this just to avoid the risk of walking into danger. Because they’re already in danger: these people had put them in the line of fire by sending them both to Scotland, and they’d survived that. They couldn’t let this go that easily, especially when this group had nothing good to offer them, nothing like they’d had with Beth’s department. 

They get up, pick their coat up and start to put it back on, and Beth lets the charm around them down, revealing their actual words again to the world beyond the bubble she’d created to let them speak freely. Any actual conversation they want to have about what’s happened will have to wait, again, until they’re back behind Marleigh’s wards, but they can at least talk vaguely until then. 

     “Tell Peggy I said thanks, will you?” they say, before looking over at Baron again to confirm they’re ready to do. 

And then they head out, out of the restaurant and back out onto the street, back downtown towards their apartment, and they’re antsy, itching and ready to be back behind their wards, to try to somehow stop feeling so paranoid—though, does it count as paranoid, when you have a real reason to be afraid? When there really is a shadowy government conspiracy directly threatening your life?

     “Well that was… enlightening,” they sigh, after a few blocks, looking over at Baron. If Beth was right, that Hattori had been intentionally leading her and the other aurors away from this group with half-truths, pretending to be working against them, then… they feel an itch of worry, in the back of their mind, for Baron, for the offer she’d gotten instead of a thread in her telekit. “You still planning on going tomorrow?” 

.

Baron gets up with Marleigh, gets her things together, and offers Beth a smile, before nodding to Marleigh, and heading out with them. It wasn’t what she had been hoping for, but that’s not to say it wasn’t helpful. Knowing that someone else had been looking at this all, and seeing the outcome that she had had doing so was helpful, even if there was very little concrete information that they didn’t already know. It’s as much of a warning of what could happen as any of her words of advice were, after all. But Baron has a strong feeling that neither of them would end up like Beth at this point if they were found still digging, especially once Baron goes to the Appius meeting.

She does genuinely hope that one day soon she can pick Beth’s brain as herself, get all of her probably invaluable advice, just listen to her talk about how she got to where she is for a while. But for now, there are other things to worry about. Baron lets out a sigh as soon as they’re back on the street walking back towards Marleigh’s place.

The silence is a necessity, for safety, not a good idea to discuss in detail until they’re back behind Marleigh’s wards, but it also feels like both of them are too caught up in what this all means, what they should both do next. She’s thinking about tomorrow night, about what it’s going to be. They hadn’t made it sound like it would be an offer like Beth’s, they had made it sound almost like an invitation, or rather an assessment of if she was worthy of an invitation. The messages had been about her grandfather’s crown, about righting his wrongs, and that makes her stomach twist. She doesn’t like being so in the dark, but she doesn’t think there’s another way to stand a chance at information at this point.

And it seems like maybe Marleigh’s thoughts are in a similar place, when they break the silence.

“Yeah, I’m still going to go. If no one else has anything else to give us, I’m just going to have to get it myself... I understand, though, if you want to bow out, with all she had to say on top of the messages. I wouldn’t hold it against you. I understand that it might not be worth it, when there’s so much at stake, and no guarantee we’ll even make a difference,” she says, because she wants them to know that it’s the truth. After their conversation before their meeting with Beth, she doesn’t think that Marleigh would dip out now, but she wants them to know that she wouldn’t think any less of them if they did, because they’ve already done so much with her, more than anyone else ever has after so many years of being obsessed with solving this.

“But I’d like to keep having a partner in literal crime for mess, if you do think it’s worth the risk.”