i know i'm going to like it here...
Story Title: Here, With You
Characters: Pete Wentz, Patrick Stump, Andy Hurley, Gerard Way, Mikey Way
Pairings: Pete/Patrick
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Merry Gentry/Bandom (Fall Out Boy/My Chemical Romance)
Series: Merry Gentry/Bandom 'verse: Chased, Caught
Disclaimer: So very not mine; the people belong to themselves, everything else you might recognize belongs to Laurell K Hamilton.
Warnings: None
Summary: With Rian dealt with, Patrick goes back to work and brings Pete with him.
A/N: Third in the series; takes place a day or two after Caught.
“I can't believe this,” Andy said as he slowly sat down in the chair across from him; the conference room was filled with only himself, Pete, his boss Andy and the other two owners of the Hurley & Way Detective Agency, Gerard and Mikey Way.
“Let me get this straight, you're an actual prince?” Gerard asked from where he was standing next to Andy's chair.
Patrick nodded with a wince. “Technically, yes. But I gave up any claim to the throne when I left Chicago five years ago. And, honestly, it's not as glamorous or fun as it sounds.”
“You're Unseelie Sidhe,” Andy went on, as if no one had said anything. “Royal Unseelie Sidhe. And you're bound to Peadair for the rest of your lives. The same Peadair who, I might add, is known all through Faerie -so well known, in fact, that people used to worship him as a god.
“And now you're his ceannaire,” he finished with a hard look at Patrick as if Patrick would lie to him; Andy was part Brownie, part Trow, with a smattering of human mixed in, so, theoretically, Patrick would be able to take him if it came to a fight; but Patrick's grandmother was a Brownie and he harbored no illusions about the fact that if Andy went Bogart, it would be a close fight.
“Well, yeah,” Patrick answered, even though it wasn't really question. He spread his hands in front of him in a conciliatory gesture. “When I started working here, I had no idea Pete was going to follow me out here or that my cousin might send people after me. I'll understand if you don't want me working here any more.”
“Don't be stupid,” Andy scoffed. “It's just a shock, that's all. I knew when you applied here that you were hiding from someone, but I never would have thought it would be this.”
He gestured over to where Pete was leaning against the wall next to the doorway; his eyes constantly running over the room and the people in it. He had a 9mm in a side holster that was visible against the red shirt he wore.
Mikey was angled to the side of him, trying to start a conversation but Pete wasn't really cooperating; he answered sparingly, giving out one or two word answers.
Bodyguard mode, Patrick mused as he glanced over his shoulder. Either he doesn't realize Mikey's been hitting on him for the past twenty minutes or he doesn't care.
When Pete met his eyes and smirked briefly, Patrick revised it to definitely didn't care.
Gerard followed his gaze and then focused back on Patrick and Andy. “So, what, he's your bodyguard now?”
“Not exactly,” Patrick told him and looked at Andy for help; there wasn't really a word in the English language to explain it. “Ceannaire translates to 'leader' but it means a lot more than that.
“Basically, Pete's my bodyguard, best friend, hired gun, boyfriend -whatever I want him to be, really.”
“Peadair bound his entire existence to Patrick; his sword, his magic, his honor,” Andy added with a small shake of his head. “It's an old custom among us and it's rarely ever used.”
“Try to remember to call him 'Pete',” Patrick reminded them. “Peadair's his name from -well, from a long time ago.”
“I will. I should have remembered that on my own,” Andy said ruefully. “None of us like to be reminded of what we used to be.
“I should be able to find plenty of jobs for you two,” he changed the subject, his tone businesslike. “No undercover work, since your glamour doesn't seem to be holding right now, but definitely some bodyguard job, maybe consulting if that comes up.”
Patrick bristled at the words, but let it pass without comment; mostly because Andy was right, as much as it irked him to admit it.
“Yeah, what's up with that? I thought I noticed you didn't look like you usually do,” Mikey commented as he came over and lounged in the chair next to him. Both Andy and Gerard sighed at his words; implying that a Fae -especially a sidhe- wasn't attractive was an insult and wars had started over less. No matter how many times Mikey was told even the most simple of rules when dealing with the Fae, he never remembered them; Gerard was constantly scrambling to cover for him.
Patrick eyed him, debating whether or not he wanted to take insult at his co-worker's words; on one hand, he knew that Mikey hadn't meant anything by it, but on the other, Mikey had to learn his lesson, no matter how much it might hurt. Better it was Patrick than another Fae who wouldn't care about what Mikey actually meant, and went for blood -literally.
Almost as soon as the words left Mikey's mouth, Pete appeared at Patrick's shoulder, a blank look on his face; Mikey looked up at him, a familiar smirk twisting his lips; one Patrick had seen directed at many people during the years he had worked with him.
“Patrick, do you need me to do something about this?” Pete asked, his voice serious but Patrick could hear the thread of amusement buried underneath the words; Pete had known Patrick his whole life, he knew that this wasn't the kind of thing that insulted Patrick. And it sure as hell wasn't the kind of thing that he would need Pete for.
But Pete probably also realized the same thing Patrick knew: better Mikey learn his lesson now and have it hurt a little than to learn it too late and be killed for it.
“No, it's fine,” Patrick told him; Pete nodded but stayed where he was. “I'm sure Mikey didn't mean to insult me.”
“Wait, insult?” Mikey sat up and looked at Patrick, confused. “No, I was just saying, it didn't mean anything.”
“Maybe you did or maybe you didn't, it doesn't matter; a perceived insult is just as deadly among the Fae as a real insult,” Patrick informed him with a bland smile. “I've lost count of how many times someone has told you that.
“If we're going to continue to do business with the Fae, you have to stop making mistakes like this, Mikey -before someone takes insult and decides to bury a knife in your back as retaliation. Just because things like that doesn't insult me all that much, it doesn't mean every other Fae you encounter is going to be like that. Thinking that is both ignorant and dangerous, not to mention sloppy.”
Mikey nodded shakily, his eyes darting in between Patrick and his brother. “Alright, Patrick. I'm sorry.”
“And to answer the question you didn't ask, my magic's still getting used to Pete's -it's still jumpy. Once it calms down, my glamour should be back to normal and working again,” Patrick told them before he turned to Pete and asked him, “Is your's going haywire too?”
Pete raised an eyebrow at the wording but didn't comment on it. “No, it's working fine -how do you think I got my gun past the security guard downstairs? But I've had longer with my magic than you have; it would take a disaster of world-ending proportions before I would have that kind of trouble.
“In theory, at least,” Pete added thoughtfully. “I've never exactly tested it out before and before now I was never personally tied to another person, Fae or human, so I suppose there could be some circumstances that I don't know about that might force to me to loose control of my magic, but as of now, no, my glamour is working fine, aghrá.”
Patrick nodded as if he expected nothing else. “I didn't think about your gun, to be honest. I thought it was like your swords.”
“No, guns are too modern for my magic to work on them like that,” Pete shook his head ruefully. “I've tried before, but my magic just ignores them; even now the glamour is on the holster, not the gun itself; there's too many man-made parts in them.”
“I can glamour iron,” Patrick said, surprised. “I've always been able to.”
“I'm not surprised; you have both Brownie and Human blood,” Pete pointed out, but without the derision that colored many other sidhe's voices when they spoke of his mixed heritage. “They help balance out your reaction to iron.”
“What do you mean like his swords?” Gerard interrupted, his enthusiasm obvious; Patrick hid a smile -Gerard's love of Fae history was well known. He figured this was just the beginning of Gerard pestering Pete for information.
Pete glanced at Patrick and at his slight nod, he grinned and pressed a thumb to one of the many tattoos that covered his right arm; immediately one of his swords appeared in his right hand.
Patrick noticed with interest that it wasn't Tromluí, the sword that was Pete's and his alone; this was just one of the many nameless that were part of Pete's arsenal.
“Holy shit,” Gerard breathed out. “I've never seen anything like that, not even from other Fae. How do you do that? Is it something other sidhe can do?”
“No, it is one of my gifts,” Pete answered with an amused smirk. “I've been able to do it since before I was Patrick's age. In all my years, I've never seen any other sidhe do it -or Fae, either, for that matter.”
A quick flare of Pete's magic and the sword disappeared, back to wherever his weapons went when he had no use for them.
“Alright, guys, lets at least try to pretend we're going to work today,” Andy said as he got up. “Gerard, you and Mikey are cleared to go to that crime scene; Joe's supposed to be there and he told me that he'd keep the place clear for a half hour or so.
“Patrick, you have two appointments this afternoon; just consultations, so you won't be in the field today. Pete will share your office and try to take him later this week for his concealed weapons permit; if you need papers for him, call Jon or Bob.”
“We won't need to, Pete has his driver's license,” Patrick commented; he got up and pushed his chair in. Pete stayed where he was, a solid line of muscle against his back. “I should be able to take him for the concealed either after work or tomorrow morning.”
Andy nodded again and raised an eyebrow at Mikey who was hovering near the table even though his brother was already out the door. Mikey cleared his throat and turned to Pete who looked at him passively, his bodyguard face firmly in place. One hand shifted slightly so Pete's fingers were gripping Patrick's hip, the hold too intimate for it to be anything other than a silent statement of possession.
Mikey's eyes followed the movement before he glanced at Patrick and shrugged as he turned and headed out the door, calling for Gerard to wait for him.
Patrick mentally rolled his eyes; he had been planning to take Mikey aside later on and telling him about the two of them, but leave it to Pete to be too impatient to wait. Pete squeezed Patrick's hip briefly before he let his hand drop and stepped back.
Andy shook his head but just headed out the door, leaving Patrick and Pete to bring up the rear.
It was going to be interesting, Patrick reflected as they headed into the hallway and then to the elevators, Pete two steps behind him.