P. Stormcrow

Finn stared at the whiteboard and tried her best to not get overwhelmed by the sheer amount of intel scribbled on it in a variety of handwriting. List of rival company names. Known mercenary groups. Underground brokers. Olivia had already added what they found on to the board and circled with a red marker the ones they cross-referenced with other agents. She rubbed her temples and yawned. It’s been a very long day.

“Are you going to live?” Jackson asked as he swung around the desk to stand next to her, both of them bracing against the edges of the hard surfaces. 

“Depends on your definition of living,” Finn muttered under her breath, still unable to year her gaze away from the myriad of markings.

“You look…” Jackson started but trailed off.

“Confused? Puzzled? Bewildered?” she suggested.

He chuckled low and for some odd reason, the sound sent delicious shivers down her spine. Fuck. There was something wrong with her. Maybe she needed to get laid.

“Tired,” he finished with his suggestion. “But sure, let’s go with all that instead.”

She let out a long sigh. “It’s… I never would have imagined… Unable to come up with an adequate description, Finn waved her hand in the air.

“You didn’t think all this existed?”

“I mean. The odd haunting? The hedge or rogue witch? Yeah, but this?”

“You thought they were all suburban soccer moms or angsty teenagers?” Jackson teased.

She groaned and rubbed her face.

“Okay, okay.” He patted her back in sympathy, his hand leaving a way imprint despite the shirt she had on. She had discarded the suit jacket she wore earlier this morning and undid the top buttons in favor of anything that would make the long hours more comfortable.

“Take a look around. This isn’t that different from any other department. All kidding aside, where there is power and wealth to be gained, there’s going to be people seeking to use it for their own benefits, legal or not.”

Finn tilted her head back to study him in a new light. It was a much bleaker sentiment than the kind she came to expect from her cheerful and compassionate partner. 

“What?” He raised a brow.

“That doesn’t seem like you.”

Jackson shrugged. “Just because we deal with the supernatural, it doesn’t mean it’s all pots of gold and unicorns.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes. “When has there ever been a case with a unicorn or a pot of gold?”

Jackson’s lips spread into what she could only call his shit-eating grin. “Well, actually—”

“Bullshit,” Finn cut him off and turned away to hide the way the corners of her mouth curved up a little. She couldn’t help it. His humor was infectious.

He laughed, the sound warming her to her toes.

“Okay everyone.” Allen’s word echoed across the warehouse and bounced against the walls. Odd. She had the impression that he was much more soft-spoken than that. Was he using an amplification spell of some kind?

How the hell did that become her first line of reasoning? Not a mic. Not a megaphone. Not throwing his voice. No, her immediate assumption was some sort of magic. Oh God, she was going native.

Wait, no, she hadn’t told Jackson yet, but she needed to before she heard it from the others. She didn’t want him blindsided.

“Thanks to everyone’s hard work, we have been able to identify that the deal is likely to go down three days from now, either by the docks or in the old industrial district south of here. But given that our vic probably doesn’t have that much time, we are going to take a different approach.”

“Reed?” Jackson whispered.

Crap. “Sorry,” she mumbled. That was all she could get out before Allen continued.

“As of now, this operation is classified as seven-o-seven. You are released, but please remain within contact and check in tomorrow at o-six-hundred.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd. Need-to-know basis. But oh, she knew.

“Hey, want to grab some food—”

“Come on.” Finn grabbed Jackson’s hand and dragged him to the stairs. Her eyes followed Allen’s movements as he also made his way up, joined by Agent Koo. Olivia emerged from above and jerked her head towards Ms. Callaghan’s office.

“Reed, what’s going on?”

She spoke fast. “When you asked us to check up on Vic Mitchell, Olivia and I stumbled on something. Those guys aren’t simply his customers. They’re his distributors. No idea whether the mercenary part is the side gig or muling for him is. But we established contact, and I posed as an interested buyer.”

“Are you—”

“Nopes, rookie here is not kidding, though at this rate, I’m not sure if I could even call her that.” Allen grinned at both of them and ushered them inside, closing the door behind.

“Agent Reed is the least recognized face out of all of us. She will meet with them to purchase the goods and pose as someone interested in the more prized item,” Ms. Callaghan finished for him, steepling her fingers as she leaned forward over her desk from where she sat.

Jackson’s eyes widened in shock and his visage paled until it became a sheet of white. He opened his mouth to speak, but not a sound escaped.

“The goal is to locate Eric Byler,” Koo continued. “If Albright is correct, and he is not only a hostage, then Reed will have the full right to ask to inspect the goods, including him, beforehand.”

“That’s a pretty big if to stake on,” Jackson replied at last, but his volume had dropped as his entire body tensed.

“We’re not just basing this from what Albright guessed.” Allen walked over to lay a hand on Jackson’s shoulder. “And we’ll be close to back her up and bail her out in case things go south.”

Comforting. Though she wondered how come they were trying to console him instead of her.

As if reading her mind, Jackson turned towards her. “Can we have a word outside? Alone?” 

He was not her keeper. Her first instinct was to bite his head off and tell him in no uncertain terms that she was going to do this. But there was something in his expression that stopped her from going off on him right there, and she let out a breath. “Fine.”

He motioned towards the door and she stomped through in annoyance. But as she spun around to face him, he pulled her further away to a more secluded corner out of view.

“I’m doing—” she started.

“Finn.” 

So close. Her pulse quickened until it became a faint echo of beating drums in her ears. He raised his hand as if to caress her cheek, but stopped himself and dropped it. “Are you certain about this? It’s not only dangerous, but the chances are not good.”

Her cheeks warmed, though she didn’t know if it was from anger, embarrassment, or something else. To his credit, he doubted her privately instead of questioning her in front of everyone. But he was still doing it. “You’re only saying this because I’m new. But you should know my skills now and that I can pull this off,” she snapped back, struggling to keep her volume down.

“I’m asking because I care!” His baby blues darkened as he lowered his face to hers almost as if he was going to kiss her.

Did she think he was close before? Why was it all she could stare at was his lips? No. She was spitting mad. Shit. Fuck.  

“Finn. You’re my partner and you’re—” he swallowed hard and the way his Adam’s apple shifted distracted her for a second—”and I can’t lose you.”

The whispered admission almost broke through her indignation. Almost. Instead, she placed both hands on his shoulders and shoved him back. “Then you should believe in me more.” She didn’t need to hear more of this. Gathering her dignity, she pivoted to walk away. 

Behind her, he called out. “I do!”

She paused, but when he had nothing more to say, she kept walking until she rejoined the others. But she found only Callaghan remaining in her office. Puzzled, she tilted her head to one side.

“They’ve gone to prepare. The operation begins at nineteen-hundred.”

Finn checked her watch. Two hours from now. That made sense. She had set the meetup for eighteen hundred, as Callaghan’s had directed once she and Olivia had contacted her. They would go on ahead first to secure the place.

“Close the door.”

She glanced outside, surprised that Jackson hadn’t returned. It didn’t matter. Or that was what she told herself as she clicked it shut, letting the vertical blinds settle. Steeling her nerves for what’s coming, Finn pivoted to face her boss.

“Agent Newman submitted his report on the last case. He also followed it up with a personal call.”

Finn’s stomach dropped, but she strived to maintain a neutral expression.

“He noted some concern that you had shown up this morning with a hangover—” Ms. Callaghan gave her bandaged hand a pointed look “—and that may have impaired your judgment.”

“I was perfectly okay. Am perfectly okay,” Finn shot back, protesting before she could think better of it. “I handled the situation earlier and this just a superficial cut.” She lifted her hand. “I can type and if need be, I will be able to handle a gun with no problem.”

Callaghan held her palm up, signaling for silence, and Finn snapped her mouth shut. The director waited to ensure she would not interrupt again before she continued, unfazed. “As I was saying. However, you have also been instrumental in the breaks we have had in this case so far.”

This roller coaster was getting to be more than she could take. 

“So, I will ask you, Agent Reed, do you feel you can see the sting through tonight?”

There was no moment of hesitation in her answer. This was what she had been trained for. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Everyone gets one chance. Go get yourself prepped.” Callaghan didn’t wait for her to leave but returned her attention to the papers in front of her.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Finn spun around to exit the room, adrenaline pumping through her system as equal amounts of excitement and anxiety rose within. The message was obvious. Don’t fuck it up.