Mismatched Pair

by J. L. Ray

  Chapter Two

  Glinda grinned slyly at Tony as she held up a sprig of holly in her pale white hand.

  “I think you’ll need this, Detective.”

  Tony took it after a brief moment of hesitation. On the way down to get their gear, she had almost panicked and gone home. Glinda had to have heard the office gossip about Tony and Phil, but that wasn’t the only reason for Tony to be worried about seeing her. She had yet to bring back the Louis Vuitton tote bag that Glinda had checked out to her for her trip to Fairie during the last case. She planned to bring that stupid bag back, just as soon as she remembered to snag it. It was huge, red, and hard to miss, but it was still sitting by her front door, where she’d forgotten it in her rush to come in after she got the message from Azeem. She expected Glinda would be angry because she hadn’t checked the valuable item back in yet. Instead, the armory sergeant was handing over an ancient symbol of good luck. She and Glinda hung out sometimes, went for a drink at Club Sidhe, but this was bizarre.

  “Thanks, G. I...uhm.” Tony took the spring. “Hey, I don’t have the bag with me,” she decided to ‘fess up in hopes Glinda wouldn’t go ballistic on her. “The Louis Vuitton tote the size of New Jersey?”

  “Keep it,” Glinda told her as she leaned forward and started stroking Tony’s arm, which, frankly, had Tony all but ready to jump out of her skin. They were friends, but not that kind of friends. “It may come in …handy.”

  “Uh, Glinda?”

  “Yes, Tony?” she asked in her painfully high-pitched voice.

  Tony looked down at the slim, soft hand with nails polished perfectly in pearlescent silver. Then she looked up at Glinda. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

  Glinda smiled again, her pointed little teeth showing in a way that didn’t give Tony any warm fuzzies. There was a brief hesitation before Glinda answered her question. “No, no, little sister. Just getting a sense of your presence.”

  Baz, who had just walked in, interrupted, “She’s measuring your mpsi to see if she has more power than you do.”

  Glinda’s perfectly pink lips pouted at the Changeling. “Spoilsport.”

  “I thought you were the human partner,” Baz said to Tony as he gave Glinda a hard stare. Changelings in Fairie were often at the mercy of witches. In fact, their Changes were generally the direct result of meddling and spells. Only rarely was it an inherited condition, as with the Swan King’s family. There was no love lost between Baz and the armory sergeant.

  Glinda pulled her hand back from Tony’s arm and turned to open the door to let the two into the back room, giving them access to the variety of accouterment from which to choose, stored behind the shielding of her work counter and counter-spell.

  Tony glanced over her shoulder at Baz as she answered, “I thought I was the human partner, too. Shows what you get for thinkin’.” She decided not to elaborate beyond that.

  Baz looked confused as Glinda’s laughter peeled over them like the squeal of a dolphin. He stuck one large forefinger in his ear and rubbed, wincing at the sound as he followed Tony.

  Glinda turned back to face them. “She is teasing you, Bear Cub. That is what Miss Antonia does,” she told him with a sneer.

  “What? Get out, girlfriend.” Tony decided enough was enough. “Glinda, you and I need to go out to Club Sidhe and have a couple of beers and a serious discussion. Get all this shit dealt with. Okay?”

  Glinda made a moue of disgust. “What ‘shit’ would we discuss? Your love life? Or the lack in mine?”

  “G, G, G. Give it a rest already. I know you’re stringing along a whole slew of lovers most of us couldn’t hope to keep.” Glinda preened a bit at what could have been a gratuitous compliment but was actually straight truth. “And while you’re out partying with your fave flave of the day, remember—Phil and I are barely even dating yet. We haven’t even gone out. It may never work out between us. What if we go out, and he, oh, I don’t know…” Tony turned away from her, gesturing with one hand as she thought out loud, “maybe he eats with his mouth hanging open or talks with his mouth full of food.” As she turned from Baz, he put one hand up to his mouth. Changelings weren’t exactly masters of good table etiquette—too much time in animal form. Tony turned back to Glinda without noticing Baz’s reaction. “Or maybe he picks his nose in public.” Here Glinda’s tinkling laughter peeled out again, making both Tony and Baz wince. “Maybe we realize that almost three thousand years makes too big a generation gap to date! He could be a total wash. I just don’t know.” Tony walked up to Glinda and deliberately got into her personal space, which wasn’t too hard since Tony was at least six inches taller and a lot more muscular. “But it is his choice and mine, and you need to back the hell down until we figure things out. Taking things out on me here at work is unprofessional.” She paused for emphasis. “Do you want me to have to go on record with the PTB that you were violating workplace decorum? Over a guy?”

  Glinda paled.

  While all the Supers in Mundania, no matter what type, had far less power than they would have had in the Fairie Realms, if they abused any of it while interacting with Mundanes, it went on report. Enough of that created grounds for workplace reassignment, usually to something far less pleasant as far as Mundane jobs for Supers went. And for a Super, a job with the SCIB wasn’t something to whistle down the wind for any reason. Sometimes, just having that job kept darker Beings on the straight and narrow. Glinda valued her job—it gave her a chance to handle magic and work with it without getting into any trouble.

  “I see your point,” she said. Then she added, her sly grin back in full force, “Go out on your little date with Mephistopheles. I don’t mind.”

  Her subtext was clear to Tony. One date and Phil would realize his mistake and run away.

  Tony shook her head and turned back to Baz, whom she found glaring down at her.

  “You are in a relationship with the Monster-Mate Director?”

  Tony looked at him, puzzled by his reaction. “Maybe. I’m not sure I’d use the ‘R’ word just yet.” She folded her arms and gave him a puzzled frown. “Why?”

  He continued to stare, his own eyes narrowed.

  “Not psychic here, okay? Your problem with that is?”

  “Is this attachment public yet?” he ground out between his large teeth, a growl rumbling under the words.

  “Nope. Like I said, no first date, yet. Folks at the office apparently know,” Tony shot Glinda a look, “but not much going on, or likely to go on if I don’t get an actual vacation any time soon. I was supposed to be on that right now, but I’m here helping your ungrateful ass. Once again, your issue with my love life is what, precisely?” She was genuinely bewildered at this point.

  Baz snorted. “It will be hard to sell us as a human couple smuggling between Mundania and the Fairie Realms if you are dating the Prince of Lies.”

  Tony’s jaw dropped. “Prince of Lies? Isn’t that Satan? What the hell?” She held up one hand. “No pun intended.”

  “Whom do you think Milton had in mind when he wrote his epic poem?” Baz asked her. “That Creature you are attached to is at the root of many foul things.”

  “Hmm. Honestly, Paradise Lost isn’t on my top five list, but come on. Foul? Isn’t that a bit much?”

  “That is the wrong foul thing,” Baz waved his arms, as if dispelling a bad odor. “I mean, it is not foul, it is one of the most important works of English poetry—”

  Tony interrupted, “Yeah, my Brit Lit teacher told us that, frequently. Still didn’t make it go down any easier. Or faster.” She shuddered.

  “Helvete! You deliberately misunderstand me. Stop.” He put out one impressively large hand. “Just stop.” He stood for a moment, his large, heavily muscled chest heaving with suppressed emotion. Throwing out an impressive sigh, he took a deep breath and tried again. “Mephistopheles is a well-known creature.” He almost spit the last word out as he said it. “If you’re dating him, we could be identified as police before
we even begin.” He turned away from Tony and Glinda as he muttered something else.

  “So, you want to say that last bit in actual words?” Tony asked.

  He turned back, a little red-faced, “I also said that you with him would be a waste of a pretty dukke.”

  “A ducky?”

  “Dukke,” he muttered.

  “You want to use some actual English words?”

  “At some point, those were English,” he said, obviously unwilling to translate.

  It was Tony’s turn to heave a sigh. She turned to Glinda, wondering when this operation, which had seemed intriguing and even fun, given the lack of Geas-doom in the form of a countdown to obliteration, had become a confusing pain in the ass. Glinda, who as fae could understand and speak any Mundane language, was bent over, hands on her knees, helplessly keening her laughter at this point. Luckily for Baz, with his sensitive Changeling hearing, this time she was operating at such a high frequency that even he didn’t hear it.

  “Let’s start over, Baz,” Tony said in her most reasonable voice, the one she used for talking her partner Cal down off of a cupcake binge. She stuck out her hand, “Hi, I’m Tony Newman. We’ll be working a case together. I am really excited and happy to get to work with you.”

  For a second, her hand hung there in the air between them, and she thought he was going to turn and walk away. His face, looming over hers, remained stony as he stared into her eyes. His eyes had narrowed to icy blue slits. Just as her friendly smile started to shift downward, he sighed again and took her right hand in one huge paw while the other covered it, sandwiching her hand between his two.

  “My apologies,” he said quietly. “I am being unreasonable and inconsiderate.” Just as she began to nod acceptance, he shook his head and continued, gently patting the hand held trapped between his own. “I shouldn’t expect so much of a young lady. Mephistopheles worms his way into the good graces of women because they are too trusting and simple.” Tony stared at him, her eyes widening in disbelief as he continued, “Besides, I know that Lieutenant Azeem would never have suggested this in the first place if he didn’t believe we could convince the buyers. I will trust his judgment that you can do this thing,” he added, nodding as he continued patting her hand.

  Tony raised an eyebrow. Damn. This guy didn’t even hear it. “Of course, Lieutenant Azeem’s approval, his opinion is the only one that counts. I, of course, despite my years of training and my record with the SCIB, I would have no idea if I was capable of performing my job,” she told him in a lilting tone any sane human male would have instantly recognized as a signal to backpedal, and fast.

  Sadly, even after centuries stranded in Mundania, Baz had yet to recognize and fear that particular tone of voice in Mundane women. Too much time stuck as a bear had left him with little human experience to draw on, despite his five hundred years. In dealing-with-adult-women years, he was still rolling out his teenage issues, and his actual teen years had happened at approximately Mundania’s Middle Ages. He blithely patted the hand in his again and added, “Do not worry yourself. Just play your role, and the Lieutenant and I will make sure that all goes well.”

  He looked confused as both women started laughing, Glinda’s thin and high, the sound of icicles penetrating an eardrum, Tony’s a low snicker that threatened to turn into a snort. “What?” he asked, looking from one to the other, which just made it worse. Glinda wiped tears from her eyes while Tony dragged her hand out of Baz’s hands and then wiped it down the side of her pants. Sweaty—Changelings generated a lot of heat, no matter what their form. “Why do you both laugh?” he demanded.

  Tony got herself under control. Fellow officer, undercover partner—she should not be laughing at him. She realized that she wasn’t acting like her normal, professional self. Of course, he was pretty hilarious, kinda me-Tarzan, you-Jane, like those old Johnny Weissmuller movies Daddy liked. Still. Bad Tony. Bad girl.

  “Hey Baz,” she said to him, “I don’t know if you’ve worked with a female officer before this. Have you?”

  “No,” he looked confused and then alarmed. “Is there some problem? Are you going to get...” he gulped, “emotional?”

  Both women broke into hysterical laughter again, and Baz’s brows drew down, an angry look that sat far too naturally on his gruff exterior. “Why are you laughing at me?” he ground out between his rather formidable teeth.

  Tony wiped her eyes and shook her head before reaching up to clap him on the shoulder. “Look, Baz, speaking of emo, you need to dial down the testosterone. You’re turned up to 11.”

  “I have no idea what you are saying, “ he told her flatly, uncomfortable with being laughed at. Hundreds of years of having people running from him in fear had damaged his sense of humor.

  Tony finally got serious. She was seriously hurting his feelings, not a good start. “Baz, man, I am sorry, but you keep acting like only you and the Lieutenant could possibly know what’s best, and it’s clear to us that you base that on being guys. Glinda and I think it’s funny because that is just…ridiculous. Mundane males don’t think like that anymore.”

  He wrinkled his forehead, trying to parse out the meaning.

  “Okay. I may be exaggerating. Sure, some Mundane guys still think like that, but they’re a dying breed, seriously. They don’t get the cool chicks, you know?”

  He shook his head. “I do not know! You use strange words sometimes.”

  “Okay. Different tack. You and I are partners on this case. You’re the lead on this because it’s your case, but that doesn’t make you the only one who knows anything. You’re acting like I should just stand by you, act like a wife, and then report the information back to the Lieutenant.”

  Baz tilted his head up and looked askance at her. “That is exactly what you should do.”

  Tony stared at him for a moment, looked at Glinda, and then doubled over. Glinda patted her and trilled, “Everyone thinks that trolls have the worst time adjusting to Mundania, but really, Changelings have it the hardest. They have a hard enough time living as humanoids without adding the odd social structure of Mundane humans to their new world. Because they look so human, everyone expects them to fit in easily.” She laughed again.

  Baz gave Glinda a hard look, and then turned to Tony and added stiffly, “Obviously, I have said something badly. Perhaps I spoke too soon. We might not be able to manage the role of husband and wife.”

  Tony shook her head, finally coming out of her laughfest. “Actually, I think we could have a definite husband-wife-in-questionable-trade vibe going. You act like a jerk and I get mad. It’s perfect! Just keep making patronizing statements and I’ll get huffy about it and act like the deal isn’t going down. It’ll keep the bad guys on their toes.”

  Baz shook his head. “Women are confusing.”

  “Close, Baz. Mundanes are confusing! Keep repeating that, be careful about what comes out of your mouth, and we’ll be ready to pull this thing off.” Tony turned to Glinda. “What are you sending out with us to trade?”

  Glinda rubbed her palms together in glee. “The most adorable set of pink flamingoes. I think they are meant to decorate a wide, green lawn.” She put one finger to her lips. “Or perhaps they are hood ornaments for cars? I cannot remember.” She cocked her head to one side. “Do you know, Tony?”

  “Glinda, I know that if you put one on a car hood, it wouldn’t stay there long, so let’s go for door number one, yeah?”

  Glinda giggled and waved them over to a flatbed cart that was loaded with large, wooden crates. “You have enough flamingoes to cover a city block in pink.”

  Tony glanced at the crates and then at her temporary partner. “You ready to go make a deal?”

  “Certainly,” he told her, “and since we are partners, but I am lead,” he smiled suddenly, a mean little smile, “you can bring the cart.” He strode off, leaving her to grin in return at his back as he left and then grab the cart’s handle.

  “I guess that’s what I get for la
ughing at him a little too much!”

  Before she could get the cart moving, Glinda oozed over to her, her sparkling skirts kicking bits of crystalline light around the walls. She hissed at Tony, “Does he know about your witch blood?”

  Tony stood for a moment, thinking through the last few conversations. “Despite your comments when I came in just now, I’m going to have to go with no. It hasn’t exactly come up, and I am just not quite sure how to cover that one.”

  “Don’t! Don’t tell him.” Glinda grabbed her arm in a grip that belied the sparkly silver nail polish and the slender hand that sported it. “You know that Changelings hate witches. It is one of the constants of Fairie. Changelings aren’t usually born creatures, Detective Tony. They are made. Some of them deserve their punishment for insulting or harming a witch. But many have done little or nothing to deserve their fates. If I remember correctly, this detective, Sebastian, is such a one. He did not earn a witch’s wrath. He is an innocent. He should not have to work in law enforcement to appease the Geas. In the Fairie Realms, he was light, not dark. The darkness happened...after.” She looked a little sad, an expression that Tony hadn’t expected to see on the Witch Queen of Confidence, ever. “He will be hard to work with if he knows the truth about you, little sister. I am sorry about my earlier comments.”

  Tony, surprised by the uncharacteristic apology, looked down into Glinda’s face. “When you say little sister, you mean that figuratively, right? I mean, you aren’t yet another sibling that I didn’t know existed?”

  Glinda’s grip loosened as she grinned a bit. “You are a sister witch. Willy-nilly, we are all related at some point, going back to the rise of the Great Mother, Hecate. So calling you sister is a figurative term with some basis in fact.”

  Tony stepped carefully out of Glinda’s hold. “I didn’t know you could be serious, G. This is the most sharing that you’ve ever done.”