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Sorcerers in Suits 2-After Hours

It was twilight, the true witching hour.  The time of beginnings and endings, when light faded and the darkness was yet to be born.

Six fifteen, by Jon Kelson’s expensive, elegant watch.

He stripped the timepiece off, and laid it on his desk.  A quiet, unobtrusive stretch as he unlocked his Other senses.  His ears and eyes remained hidden from mortal view, though. He wouldn’t totally emerge unless great danger threatened. Because for some reason, Lynn had chosen to work late as well, and although a spell to wipe memories was available, he wasn’t as precise with it as Juss.  Hell, he might destroy every thought in the poor bitch’s head, not just the sight of him Changed!  And he would feel bad about it.  Why couldn’t she just have gone the hell home?

He made a small face, inside himself.  She was not a bad person, and he had been lonely.  But bedding her had not been wise.  Of course, at the time he hadn’t known he was half-fae, and addictively attractive to mortals.

Would he have fallen in love with her, if Juss hadn’t come along and Shown him what he was meant to be?

No.  He might have fooled them both into believing it.  But there would always have been something missing, a yearning unfulfilled on both sides.  Loneliness more awful because there would seem to be no reason for it.

It was better to Know your purpose, even if it cut you off from those who had no clue.  Juss had lived for hundreds of years, Knowing himself as a Warrior against Chaos.   Fighting alone, unwilling to share his dangerous life with someone innocent.

It’s another part of my job, I think, to change that, to heal his loneliness.  Definitely the most enjoyable part. Thank God he finally admitted that I’m FAR from innocent!

Jon’s dreamy smile faded as dusk came and the windows filled with smears of purple-gold and crimson.  Sundown, filtered through San Bernardino smog, was always a riot of beauty.  Light touched by poison and thereby turned magical.  Irony.

There was a clatter from the mail room, so timely it was almost funny.  A small sound, as if a clumsy worker had knocked something off a shelf by accident.  Scissors, maybe, or a stapler.

He sat up straighter, rubbed his eyes like any overworked executive trying to stay awake.  Gently, he tugged his tie free.

It lay quivering in his hand, waiting.  Impatient.  Not the muted, silken testament to good taste he wore in the daytime; that he had stuffed carelessly into his desk drawer as soon as five o’clock rolled around. This tie, Juss had given him when they finally Bonded.

It had ducks on it.  He smiled at the sight of it as he always did, and waited for the next move.

A louder rattle came from the mailroom, and he stood up decisively.  Cartoon tie dangling from his fingers, he wandered towards the lunchroom as if seeking the coffeepot.

What he really sought was much less innocent than the worthless decaf Lynn insisted on filling the pot with.

“You rest this time,” he’d said implacably after shutting his office door. “You guard the place all day; I can handle one short night.”

Juss eyed him blearily, surprised and displeased.  He knew that Lynn had asked Jon to talk to him about his poor work habits, so he wasn’t surprised to be called into the boss’s office.  But the fake scolding would have pleased him better than a lecture based in fact. “What we do at lunch is just maintenance, and you know it.  Night is the real danger.  I don’t want you…”

“Fuck that.  You look like shit.  How long since you’ve really rested, or eaten?  It’s not your fault that the Gates of Hell open into this freaking mail room, and you don’t have to watch 24/7!  I’m here to *train*, remember?  To just possibly help you?”

“It’s not the ‘Gates of Hell’,” Juss  protested, offense plain on his battle-scarred face.  “It’s the main portal to the Netherverses.  *Hell*, my ass; what an insult. Get the terminology right for once!”

“Yadda yadda, whatever.  Point is, you said we were a team and you never let me really help.  I’m 65 level now, goddammit!”

Jusstin’s lip quirked.  “Yeah. Noob.”

Jon had to smile at that, and go for a kiss.  “Gay noob, dammit.  Get your terminology right, you slacker.”

Michael St. Juss laughed.  It turned into a prodigious yawn, and he surrendered.  “Gay noob KS-er.  You talked me into it, I guess. Call me if you need help, though.  Promise.”

Even though the mage was obviously bone-weary, the force of his ice-crystal gaze made Jon shudder a bit.  Lover or not, such power was intimidating!  Damn lucky Juss was one of the good guys.  “Promise,” he whispered, and felt the weight of his vow snap over him like a geas.  You didn’t dishonor a pledge to a wizard of Juss’s strength without heavy damage.  If he got out of his depth damn right he would yell for help, if only to keep from breaking a vow to an IceLord DreamWeaver.  That might be more heavy duty shit than actually facing the Dark on his own.

And Juss knew it, too; otherwise he never would have required a promise.  Growling, Jon pretended to smack the faint grin from his friend’s face, then turned it into a gentle stroke of fingers over the scruff of unshaven cheek. “*You* better promise to really sleep and not empty the coffeepot and watch horror movies till dawn.”  Oh, God, I want to kiss him again.  But it’ll turn into something else, and soon half the office will be listening.  After fifteen minutes ears get stuck to the boss’s door because it means someone is REALLY in bad trouble.

His friend’s eyes danced, reading his frustration with pleasure. “Awww--- You’re no fun, boss.”

“Not what you said at lunch today, spellslinger.”  He easily dodged the notebook his employee tossed at his head, then raised his voice as he opened the door.  “I’ll have Miss Vandredge draft a letter for you, to make this an official warning.  No pressure, but you need to get on the ball and work with the team, Mike!”  Man, did that sound stupid…

Jon watched sternly as Mike gathered his levi jacket and limped out to the bus stop, shoulders hunched in fake despondency.  Well, I hope that squeeze to the ass as he went out cheered him up a bit.  Of course he knows I’m full of crap, but I don’t like some of the acting we have to do, dammit!  And I’d rather drive him home, but after supposedly reaming him for laziness I don’t guess that would add to our performance.  Jon glared at the remaining employees till their smirks dissolved and they pretended to be working.  He stalked back in his office, wondering not for the first time if saving these spiteful idiots from their worst nightmares was really worth it.

He better fucking get some sleep, or I will totally kill him.  IceLord or no IceLord.

“Jon?  Is that you?”  The call snapped him back to “reality” and he cursed.  Lynn was far too close to the mailroom, and she sounded scared.  Damn, why couldn’t she have just gone home and made his job easier?

There was another sound from the mailroom; not a clatter this time.  A feral growl, then a thunderous rumble and a cry of terror.

“Shit!” He snapped the tie like a whip from his fingers, and grabbed the bloodstone hilt of the Shadowed blade it became with practiced grace.  Fire flowed down his body, his imported suit turning into leaf-patterned armor, his body Changing even as his defenses rose.

“Woo-hoo!” the sword bleated.  “Time to save the World and some stupid dame too! Gogogo!”

“Juss must hate me, giving me a duck sword,” Kelson bitched, and the blade quacked mockingly.

“Get a move on, hero-boy,” it sneered, its edges hissing to green as it became a poison blade.  Which meant, probably, that the mailroom attacker would be currently among the living.  Poison didn’t work on ghouls, ghosts or zombies.

He supposed that was something to be happy about.

Living enemies were MUCH easier to kill than dead ones.