Laurel Lance (i_crylikeabird) wrote in we_coexist, @ 2011-03-25 22:24:00 |
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Entry tags: | dinah lance, harry dresden |
Recon works both ways (Log, Harry/Dinah)
After work, Dinah headed up to the apartment above the shop. While she wasn't generally using it, it was a good place to get ready for the night. Particularly because Harry was going to pick her up. It was too much of a risk to Barbara's computers-she bit her lip at the thought and corrected herself, since Barbara wasn't here-to the Clock tower's computers to have a wizard in the vicinity. As much as she hated that, she knew she'd have no skills to fix them and there wasn't anyone she trusted enough to let up there.
So, her old apartment worked as a nice meeting place to that end. She couldn't exactly ride her motorcycle in a dress. Or, rather, she could, but it would be murder on the skirt.
After Harry had done some further digging into the investigation, he'd agreed to let Dinah accompany him to the Velvet Palace. A dinner date seemed like the easiest way to get in the door, even if she knew he still wasn't comfortable with the idea.
Dinah zipped up the black silk dress that skimmed her knees, and then added her accessories. A bracelet with a hidden lock-pick, hair pins that could be used as a weapon in a pinch, a small assortment of tools attached to her garter.
And with that, she was ready to go. Dinah took one last glance in the mirror and then settled into one of the stools at her kitchen counter and waited for Harry to show up.
----
The Blue Beetle wasn't the most stylish of cars. It wasn't even one color anymore, with bits of green, red, and primer grey adorning various replaced parts. The important thing was that it ran (most of the time) and being old enough to warrant historical plates three times over, it was a bit more resistant to Harry's hexing. Dressing had been a bit of a debate, but Harry had settled on dress slacks and a silk shirt. The same silk shirt he'd worn during his duel against Ortega. Orientals wore silk for it's ability to prevent barbed arrows from burrowing into the skin. Harry wasn't sure there would be barbed arrows aimed at them, but he felt the need to be prepared for anything.
His shield bracelet was on his wrist, and two silver rings adorned his fingers. The other six were in his pocket, and his staff was absent. His blasting rod was still tucked in his duster, hanging by its leather thong, but it, along with the staff and gun would be left in the car. Going into an unknown area with a magical arsenal like that, he would be asking for trouble. His pentacle amulet, however, was still around his throat, resting against the deep red silk shirt.
Harry went up to the door and knocked for Dinah. He was a little early, but he hoped it wasn't too early.
----
Dinah answered the door quickly, a grin on her face. She’d already known who to expect, but it was still nice to see him.
“Fancy meeting you here,” she teased and stepped out the door, taking his arm. Dinah stood on her tiptoes and brushed a small kiss against his cheek. “You look nice,” she told him.
For just a second, it was easy to imagine that they were just on a regular date, though she knew they were both armed and ready for anything the Velvet Palace had to throw at them. Then again, this was more the type of date she was used to anyway.
----
It took Harry an extra moment to recover. "You look amazing," he said, returning the light kiss against the corner of her mouth. He wasn't being flattering; the dress showed curves that Harry swore even the fishnet costume hadn't shown off. He shook off the stare and lifted Dinah's hand to kiss her knuckles. He couldn't see her weapons, but he knew she would be just as prepared as he was.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked one last time, knowing what her answer would be, but hoping he could convince her otherwise. "We could always go back inside and... well. I could try and convince you to show me those fishnets again." His lips curled in a suggestive smile, but his eyes were clear, resigned to continue.
----
Dinah flushed happily at the compliment.
“Thank you.”
When he asked if she was sure, she wiggled an eyebrow.
“As much fun as that sounds, I’m sure,” she answered. She held up one of her bracelets and showed him the lock-picking mechanism, and then pulled out one of her hair pins to show off the sharp end.
“I came prepared,” she reassured him. “But if you want to see what’s hiding in my garter, you’re going to have to buy me dinner first,” she said with a mischievous smirk.
----
Harry arched a brow of his own at the display of weaponry. "But I am buying you dinner," he said, a playful pout on his words. He tapped his shield bracelet, then the rings in succession. "Shield spell, force spells. Plus a pocket full of minor spell components if I need anything on the fly. Nothing obvious, though. I'll have to leave the blasting rod in the Beetle."
He gestured to the car. "My former mechanic told me that the Volkswagen Bug was the easiest car in the world to repair, so that's what I drive. He managed to keep it running about nine days out of ten, so I'm pretty sure he had some divine blood in him." He opened the passenger-side door and held it open for her. Extra blankets had been laid over the seats to help pad them out, since they were pretty much milk crates and wooden boards bolted down and attached to seat belts.
----
“You know,” Dinah teased, “a magic wand would be a whole lot easier to carry around than a blasting rod.”
She settled into the car and then glanced over at Harry.
“So, what are we looking for when we get to the restaurant? I think it’s too much to hope for a room labeled ‘hostages’ containing all the missing women.”
She went over the information Harry had shared with her, combined with what they’d learned from the drug dealer.
“And the question is, what are they up to? It seems like the disappearances only take place at those parties of theirs. One a month, and judging from the drugs, it’s all been in sets of threes for the last two months and it seems like that’s the plan again. Does that mean anything to you? Seems a little bit too methodical, if you ask me.”
----
With a light sigh, Harry got into the driver's side and started up the Beetle. "The whole concept is wrong," Harry said. "A magic wand is a prop, a tool. It's not even Dumbo's magic feather - it's a complete facade of a tool. Wands imply that they allow the one holding it to perform any acts of magic just by waving it around and saying the right words." He shook his head. "Names are important, remember? My blasting rod is just that - it helps me to focus and direct my evocations, evocations being the kind of kaboom magic that can easily get out of hand without some strong control over it. It's a focus for my own magic, not the magic itself." He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "Besides, 'blasting rod' is a hell of a lot more manly than 'magic wand'."
At Dinah's questions, Harry bit at his lip. He'd been discussing the matter with Bob, and he didn't like the implications the spirit had been making. "They're setting up for some kind of ritual. I don't know what kind yet, but if we can at least find some of the tools for it, I'd have a better idea. The one thing all these women have in common is that they were in love." Then, thinking it over, he shrugged. "It's a flimsy connection at best, but real love isn't all that common. Those guys were pretty heartbroken."
He was frowning again, eyes serious. "I want to find them, Dinah. I want them safe."
----
“And a whole lot more phallic,” Dinah said with a wink in regards to the explanation about the blasting rod.
She fell silent for a moment, considering Harry’s description of the common thread between the women that had been taken. Her stomach turned over at the idea. She glanced up at him.
“If they’re preparing for a ritual, then that means they’re still alive.” Her hand rested on his forearm and she gave a light squeeze. “We’ll find them.”
There was very little doubt in her voice. She wasn’t used to failing, not when there were people to be rescued. And if they had to turn the entire City upside down looking for these women, then so be it.
Dinah turned her eyes back to the road.
“Somebody’s got to get their happy ending, after all.”
The restaurant loomed into view a few minutes later. Dinah waited for Harry to find a parking spot, bracing herself for whatever might come their way next.
----
Harry gave her a look that was far to amused to deserve a capital L. "I'm a traditionalist. In a few more years I'll have the start of a long white beard, and I'll start looking for Balrogs to fight off."
He appreciated the hand on his and gave her a light smile. He maneuvered the Beetle into a parking space, and then turned towards Dinah. His game face was on, eyes gleaming with dark energy. "I'll handle defense. Keep your eyes open. If anything non-mortal comes at us, I'll handle it. If you need to use your canary thing, tap your throat twice, and I'll cover my ears or shield myself. After we order, you excuse yourself and take a look around. I'll go look elsewhere after we get food. Anything suspicious, we regroup and handle it together. Sound good?"
----
Dinah shot him a grin of anticipation. Quite apart from her usual smiles, her face was hard, ready for battle. Offense, she could handle quite nicely. Assuming it came to that.
Then again, when did a recon mission ever not come to that?
“Works for me,” she agreed.
Once they stepped out of the car, she wiped the anticipation of the potential fight from her face and took his arm, easily slipping back into the role of adoring girlfriend. Not that it was all an act, though if she were to give it thought, that would explain a lot about why it was so easy to put that face on.
For now, however, she focused on projecting the image of one half of a couple on the rise.
She let Harry lead the way into the restaurant and hung back to allow him to talk to the host. She took the opportunity to discreetly scan the entrance hall to the restaurant for anything worth investigating.
Nothing jumped out immediately, but then she hadn’t expected it to be quite that easy.
----
Doing his part for the role, Harry confirmed his reservation, taking a roll of bills from his pocket to slip the maître d' one of them, asking for a specific table. The bills were what remained of his thousand dollars down from Mort Calvin, of course. It helped to give the right impression. The maître d' made the bill vanish quite expertly, and led them to the table. It gave a clear view of the front doors and the kitchen doors, poised underneath a large crystal chandelier. Harry hoped it wasn't illuminated through a few hundred tiny fiber-whatsis bulbs, or it would start shorting out quickly. Thankfully, it seemed to simply be reflecting light from the rest of the dining room.
Both the maître d' and the waitress had Spanish accents, heavy in the former, light in the latter, though the menu wasn't Hispanic cuisine. Harry wondered, aloud to Dinah, if the staff was chosen specifically or perhaps related to the owners.
----
“Hm, I wonder…” Dinah took note of the staff, curious herself about the accents. While the City drew in all kinds of people, the natives mostly seemed to be native English speakers, specifically Americans. She wondered how it would be that natives would have different accents, though she imagined that the City might just have various ethnic neighborhoods, similar to how Gotham and New York had Chinatown and Little Mexico, etc.
Then again, this wasn’t a typical city. There was nowhere for people to migrate from.
“It does seem a little strange, doesn’t it? I wonder if they’re natives to the City,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper.
The conversation was halted as the waiter came to take their order.
Once they’d ordered and the waitress had departed, Dinah stood up, and leaned over to kiss Harry’s cheek.
“I have to go to the powder room. I’ll be back in a few minutes, honey,” she said with a conspiratorial smile.
Her hand lingered on his shoulder for just a minute and she gave him a reassuring squeeze, as if to remind him that everything would be okay. She knew he was uncomfortable with bringing her into this, despite the fact that it had been her idea, and she was eager to set his mind at ease.
Dinah took note of the busboy watching them as she passed him, but didn’t make eye contact or indicate that she’d noticed. For that matter, she had felt the watchful eyes of the maître d' as he’d escorted them to the table.
She took the long way to the restroom, careful to look slightly lost as she took in her surroundings. There were two dining rooms-one larger and one that was smaller and more intimate. Harry’s tip had landed them in the smaller dining room. Aside from the dining rooms and the kitchen, the restaurant didn’t seem to be all that large. Dinah followed the hallway on her way to the bathroom, lightly dragging her hand along the wall, tapping every so often in an attempt to find anywhere that should be hollow but wasn’t.
What she really wanted was to sneak into the kitchen, as there didn’t seem to be any hidden doors or rooms out here, but she wasn’t quite sure how to maneuver it.
Dinah’s exploration came to an end when their waitress stepped out of the larger of the two dining rooms. The woman smiled brightly on seeing Dinah.
“The ladies’ room is this way,” she said with a nod down the hallway. “Easy to miss.”
That put an end to Dinah’s explorations for the time being, though she’d already managed to cover the hallway pretty thoroughly. She followed the waitress into the restroom. As they walked, the waitress turned to give her a grin.
“Your boyfriend is very enamored of you, isn’t he? It’s quite charming.”
“Oh,” Dinah said, a little taken aback at the small talk. “Well, the feeling’s mutual,” she said with a small smile. “Harry’s a good man,” she added, no longer just playing the role of doting girlfriend as a little touch of honesty shone through.
“Yes, well, you are lucky. If my boyfriend looked at me like he looks at you…” the waitress cut herself off and shook her head. “Well, we can’t all be lucky enough to find true love, can we?”
“Um,” was the most intelligent reply Dinah could come up with to that assumption.
Thankfully, the waitress slipped into a stall, abruptly cutting off the conversation.
----
A moment after Dinah had left, the maître d' returned to the table with a bottle of red wine. "One of our finest vintages, sir," he said, pouring into the glasses on the table. "On the house, for our newest customers. Senor Torres insists."
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Does he now. That's very kind of him." Harry was a bit thrown off by that. "Why would he do that?" He also wasn't known for his tact.
The man smiled politely. "He is a man fond of those with potential, senor. Perhaps you have heard of the monthly dinner galas he hosts?" When Harry feigned ignorance, tilting his head in what he hoped was curiosity, the man continued. "It is a private affair, senor, and only those who show promise are invited." He gave Harry a wink. "Enjoy your meal, senor."
Harry smiled in return. "Thank you. I most certainly will." Apparently flashing that cash had been a good idea. Now if they let a few details drop about Harry's blossoming business (and perhaps a few words about a new car), the invitations should be a cinch.
----
Dinah slipped back into her chair a few minutes later. She met Harry’s eyes and gave a slight shake of her head, to indicate that she hadn’t found anything.
She glanced at the wine glasses, her eyebrows raising slightly. Drinking on the job didn’t seem like something Harry would usually do. Unless, of course, it was a good way of keeping up appearances. She took one of the glasses and raised it toward him.
“What are we drinking to?” she asked.
----
"To success," he said, leaning in slightly, as though to keep the conversation private, but the volume of his voice didn't change. "Business is booming, after all. Even our generous host seemed to take notice." He touched his glass to hers and took a sip. The wine was far more pleasant than he had expected, so the sip became a swallow. He didn't think it would have much effect - wine didn't generally do much to him, particularly not when it was coupled with a meal. "I think the bottle is an enticement to some party they have here once a month."
His other hand reached across the table to touch hers, lightly stroking her fingers. It was easy to act like this with her. It felt natural, even. He didn't let himself think of the implications of that. He and Dinah were good friends, and they worked well together. It was only fitting that this was another area they could rely on one another.
----
Slight tingles raced up her hand at the light touch. Dinah followed Harry’s lead and took a few sips of the wine. It was sweeter than she would have expected, being a red, but it tasted good all the same.
She smiled over at him, a smug sense of accomplishment at the idea that they were so close to an invitation that would allow them to prevent the next round of kidnappings and hopefully find out more about the women who had been taken so far.
“Well, how could he not notice? You’re practically glowing with success,” she said with a grin. “I’m so proud of you.”
She took another, deeper drink of the wine. Her muscles relaxed as the wine began to affect her. She hadn’t expected it to go to her head quite this quickly. While she knew she needed her wits about her, it was pleasant to just relax and enjoy the moment.
----
Harry's fingers continued to stroke hers. He was amazed that he hadn't realized earlier how smooth and silky her skin felt. The light caress gradually shifted to include her hand, up to her wrist. He took another drink of the wine, finding it delightfully refreshing against his dry throat. "Of us," he said, gently correcting her. "We're in this together, remember?"
Something was nagging at him, in the back of his mind, but Harry ignored it. The crystals overhead were playing, tossing dancing lights over Dinah's hair.
He finished the glass of wine, and immediately reached for the bottle, to refill both their glasses. "This is good stuff," he said. "I usually prefer beer... or a nice white," he added hurriedly, remembering the part he was playing. Once the glasses were refilled, he turned over the bottle in his hands to check the vintage.
----
Dinah held Harry’s gaze for a moment when he mentioned that they were in this together.
She busied herself with the newly refilled glass, taking another deep drink.
“It is good. Though if you’re not careful, you’ll have to carry me to bed when we get home,” she said with a contented smile. All in all, it didn’t sound like such a bad thing. If they didn’t have work to do tonight, that was.
But they did have work to do, she reminded herself. And something was not quite right, though she couldn’t put her finger on it. At any rate, it was hard to care as her gaze traced over the features on Harry’s face before she focused on his gray eyes, thinking that it was nice that he no longer needed to avoid eye contact with her now.
----
The writing on the bottle was all in Spanish. Uvas del Rey Rojo. Harry didn't speak the language, but he knew rojo meant red, and it was red wine. The vintage year was given as 1992, but no vineyard was indicated. He put the bottle back with a light shrug. "Must have been a good year," he guessed.
He took another drink as well, musing over the taste of the wine, the way it seemed to warm him, making his feel light and numb. It was.. almost familiar. The way his skin seemed to throb with every beat of his heart. He had the glass to his lips when the waitress appeared with their plates. Harry gulped down what remained in the glass as the rich scent of his steak hit his nostrils. It smelled divine, and Harry looked up at Dinah, suddenly feeling the impulse to taste her, to run his tongue against her skin and see if she tasted as glorious as she smelled.
There was a moment of euphoria, dizziness so intense that Harry bit on his tongue to stop it. "Focus, Harry," he muttered aloud. "Got to focus."
He'd learned how to block out pain, long ago. Several methods, one so dangerous that he'd nearly died of his wounds without feeling the pain they should have been driving through him. Blocking out pleasure was much more difficult, but Harry had done it before. The first time he'd been under this effect.
They must have mixed the drugs with saliva. He would have known it immediately if it was pure.
"Dinah," he said, trying to concentrate. His right hand slipped into a pocket of his duster, withdrawing a slim vial of cloudy liquid. "Drink this. Quick.”
----
Dinah focused on Harry’s voice, enjoying the melodic tones and taking a few moments to comprehend the words. Her eyes, which were now heavy-lidded fell on the vial. She fumbled for a moment before taking it from Harry’s hand and drinking it.
Her mind cleared somewhat, though still muddied down with the comfortable sleepiness brought about by the wine.
The wine. Dinah’s eyes widened and she looked at Harry.
“The waitress said something… we must have really convinced them that we’re in love,” she said in surprise.
Her hand found his and she pressed the vial back into his hand.
“But it’s not time yet…” she shook her head in an attempt to keep her mind alert. She was only somewhat aware of the fact that the dining room was empty except for them. What had seemed like a plum table due to Harry’s tip was now cast in a very different light.
Her head drooped forward, and Dinah could no longer fight the effects of the drug as her eyes slid shut.
----
"Dinah!" Harry's hands moved too slowly, and he couldn't catch her as she slid out of her seat and onto the ground. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, throwing up walls in his mind to separate him from that intoxicating pleasure. He'd been subjected to it before, and here it was again, like an old familiar drug.
When he opened his eyes again, the blurred form of the maître d' before him. "Well, well, Wizard Dresden," the man said, his voice oddly distorted by a feral growl. Harry felt his limbs go cold despite the vicious warmth running through him. "I certainly didn't expect you to find your way here. How lucky for us that this marvelous City drew us in before your spell took effect."
Red wine. Velvet Palace. Harry cursed himself for not connecting things before. Red Court. The once-extinct Red Court of Vampires. "I'll kill you," Harry said, his words slurring as the drugs wrapped around his mind. He tried to call up his will, but only managed to fall out of his chair before the world went black.