arrival of the girl sleuth

[smarter_than]

I was startled awake by my flight's bumpy landing at New Metropolis International. That was funny--I usually had trouble sleeping on planes. I guess that's the benefit of flying red-eye. I stretched carefully in my seat and gathered up my coat and shoulder bag as the large woman next to me heaved herself into the aisle

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[designatethis]

You'd think that the scientists that had created me could have included an anti-hangover gene or two in the DNA while they were at it. Usually drinking didn't leave me with a headache like this but just knowing Alec was in the city usually got it started in no time. It was just a matter of time before he started hitting my cell asking for help or cash or both usually.

Strolling into the Firefly I needed a hit of caffeine and quick. Stepping to the counter I ordered a grande latte, extra cream. Picked up a fresh copy of the Daily Planet while I was at it before paying.

New Terror Strikes New Metropolis! Leave it to Mr. White to go with the flashy headline. That man lived to sell five more copies even if it meant giving Granny a heart attack doing it. I checked the first line to see if I was getting any credit for my crack reporting, getting to the scene while the fires were still burning. Nope, no love for Max Gueverra on the front page today.

Looking up from the paper for a second I noticed the cafe was packed today. There was an empty seat next to a blond who looked like she was way too wrapped up with her laptop. Sitting down on the opposite arm of her couch I leaned back, propping open the paper to see how much of the article they'd straight jacked from my story.

"Bastards!" Tried not to be too loud when I saw it was pretty much word for word what I'd turned in, all the interviews with eyewitnesses and the no comments from the cops. Crumpling the paper I threw it down, folding my arms and sipping the still steaming coffee. Andrew Reynolds, lead reporter had ripped me off. This was not cool at all.

[smarter_than]

I barely noticed the brunette who took the other end of the couch, until she exclaimed loudly and made me jump out of my skin. She proceded to crush her paper (I would describe it as vehemently) and throw it to the floor.

"Whoah there, killer." I looked over at her. "That paper must have duped you out of house and home to deserve to be treated like that."

[designatethis]

"Close. Sorry for the startling." First reporter on the scene, and not a single mention of it. Nothing worse then getting screwed and not even enjoying it. Turning I pulled my knees up, ignoring the paper I'd come close to destroying. Killer. Off hand remark that hit closer to my heart then I wanted to let on.

"Just a little work related stress." Why not vent to the stranger in the coffee shop? Logan had pointed out holding back was on of my 'issues'. "Which, I should have finished reading the paper before taking it out. But it had it coming."

[smarter_than]

"Work related. huh? Do you write for the paper?" What are the odds of running into a fellow journalist in the first coffee shop I visit in a new city? I had to wonder. But then, a city like this must be riddled with journalists and journalism student wannabes.

"Agreed--papers are a waste of resources anyway."

[lockless_key]

After the meeting with Angel, I headed to the Firefly. I could so use a caffeine pick-me-up after the morning spent going through Wolfram and Hart records... apparently they didn't know how to write like humans. Which was ironic.

Well, no, not really.

Also, I was going to ask around about Marie. I know Angel was getting all "grr-protective", but seriously, without me, he wouldn't have a clue. So give the girl some props here. Besides, talking to some people in a coffee shop is like one of the least dangerous things I could do ever.

"Hey," I said to the barista at the counter. Who was kind of cute... but I seriously had no time to think about boys. But... boys! He smiled and I had to check my brain back into functioning.

"What can I get'cha?"

"Double vanilla latte... and oh, hey, is Marie around?"

Something like worry flickered behind his eyes. "Nope. Haven't seen her in a few days. You a friend?"

"Classmate," I said vaguely. "Is she sick?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. She just stopped showing up. It's not like her. She was quiet, y'know, polite. Seemed reliable. And really grateful for the job. Didn't think she'd just up and take off, y'know?"

"Yeah," I said worriedly. Hopefully she'd be back to resume her job someday. Considering it was Wolfram and Hart, I wasn't so sure. But if we didn't have hope anymore, what would be left?

He handed me the latte, smiling apologetically and I took it, smiling back. Definitely not in the mood for boys anymore. Wrapping my fingers around the cup, I went over to an armchair across a low glass coffee table from a couch occupied by two girls.

"Hey, sorry - anybody sitting here?"

[smarter_than]

I glanced up from my web-browsing. I'd just come across a place called Fusion that might be worth checking out. Live music was always worth a shot, and didn't require the often socially-awkward mingling. I gave the other girl a generic I'm-new-here smile. "Not that I know of. It's all yours."

[designatethis]

"Do you write for the paper?"

"Apparently not. Strangely enough I get to do interviews, and write the stories, yet my name isn't anywhere on there." Was I bitter? Just a tad. I was about to give the wadded paper a final kick when another girl arrived, eying an empty seat opposite the table.

"You'd better get it while you can, this place is busy and I think they need to find some help."

[smarter_than]

"They're not giving you credit? That sounds like a pretty raw deal." As an afterthought, I added, "They better not pull the same crap with me." That doesn't sound like the Daily Planet I met... What the phrase? First impressions often flawed? Something like that.

I took a drink of my coffee, one of those cool Ethiopian blends, and wondered if it would be worth to apply at the coffee shop. The internship wasn't paying much (definitely not living wage) and I can only ask Dad for so much.

[lockless_key]

One of the girls, a petite blonde, smiles but looks a little nervous while trying not to look nervous at all. To the untrained eye, she wouldn't. Not that I'm like, uber-trained. But still. The other seems snarky.

"They had help," I mutter, slinging my bag over the back of the chair and sitting down in it, one leg tucker under me. "It disappeared."

Pulling out my cell phone, I dial the number of Champion Investigations. It goes to voice mail. "Hey, Angel," I say, trying to sound cheerful. No need to weird out the strangers in the cafe. "I'm at the Firefly, and there's still no word from Marie. I'm going to try and find out where she lived, and if she had any family or anything in the area. Um, good luck with Faith. Okay, bye."

Snapping the phone shut, I eye the other girls. Hey, I wonder...

"You guys didn't happen to know Marie by any chance?"

[smarter_than]

I thought I heard the second girl mumble something about the help disappearing. Was my first day in a new city too early to start prying? Overhearing her phone call, I was more than able to put two and two together. Come on Veronica, the first day is never too early for anything, I told myself. After all, hadn't I cut Wallace down from the flagpole the first day we met?

"I don't, I just moved here." I shook my head. "Did I hear you saying she disappeared? Like, poof? Have you filed a missing persons report?" I sat forward, suddenly attentive.

[designatethis]

"How long has she been missing?" I noticed I had moved closer at exactly the same time as the blond, who apparently also worked at the Daily Planet. One look at her and the senior reporters would be having a field day. It would be a good thing having another girl around the office to help keep the old boys honest.

"Do you have any pictures?" A recent picture made the difference in sixty three percent of kidnappings. I had this girl pegged as the best friend, or at least a concerned citizen sort.

"Sorry, not to be Miss Twenty questions but I'm Max, reporter for the Daily Planet. I'd like to help." See, this was a way better cover then bike messenger. Then anything was better then just saying 'government engineered killing machine' that scared people away.

[smarter_than]

"I'm Veronica," I said, introducing myself to both of them. "I run a PI business with my dad in California. I'm here working at the Daily Planet too, and I'd be happy to help out." A little pro bono work is good for a girl. Karmic returns and all that.

I started a file in my head. Marie, probably college age if she'd worked here. And someone called Angel was supposedly looking for her, too. I set my coffee down. No better wake-up call than the thrill of a new case.

[lockless_key]

I blinked, looking at them, and ran the conversation over in my head. Did I have a 'girl needs help' sign on my back or something? This town, man, you ask an innocent question and the press is all over you.

"Hey, guys, look, I appreciate the enthusiasm, but we'd really like to keep the press off of this one." Angel's work with Jimmy should be sufficient, really. "And Marie's not missing. Not exactly." Yeah, we know what happened to her. Sort of. Or who happened, anyway. The how's and the why's are a little unclear. And the where, oh, yeah, that's a problem too.

Maybe it would be good to poke around a bit more... but call me twitchy for being suspicious, but wasn't it weird how both of these girls just jumped at my words? I'll twitch as much as needed if it keeps everyone safe. Like, for example, me.

"Thanks, Max, Veronica - oh, I'm Dawn, by the way - but I'm working with Angel and he's sort of a PI as well. Champion Investigations, maybe you've seen the ads? Anyway. It's nothing for you guys to worry about."

I mean, how would I explain that? An evil, demon-run law firm kidnapped and possibly killed this normal-looking girl who's probably not as normal as she looks, and this has something to do with the guy with superpowers who's been terrorizing New Metropolis lately? Oh, and Superman's dead body.

Yeah. Right.

[designatethis]

Oh, could this get any better? She, Dawn actually, worked with Angel. If Angel was looking for this girl this could be bigger then it looked. I cast a sideways glance at Veronica. She was definitely out of the 'motivated' mold. Ok, Max sit back, chill and let Dawn talk.

"Look Dawn, I don't mind keeping things off the record until Marie is safe and sound and gives her permission for a story. Which might never happen if nobody helps look, right?"

Maybe this wasn't the time to push things, but after years of hiding where I came from I knew how to read people. If Dawn was working for Angel then she was onto things not being normal. Veronica, well she'd have to learn soon anyway.

"If this is vampire or shifter related, I've got a few contacts I don't mind leaning on." Alec counted as a contact. Especially when my first contacted his face. "Besides, last time I saw Angel he was a walking bruise, vampire or not."

[smarter_than]

Damn. A day late and a dollar short. Oh well, it might be worth it to talk to this Angel person anyway, if he's "sort of a PI." Champion Investigations, huh? The more the merrier.

I chewed on my lip for a moment, contemplating--"Wait, did you just says vampires? As in, blood-sucking, sun-loathing, servants of evil?" I immediately had an image of Bela Lugosi as Dracula in my head. Not that I didn't know vampires were real--obviously they were, we heard national news stories about them from time to time--there just definitely weren't any in Neptune. Too sunny.

[lockless_key]

I blinked, stared for a moment at the girl who said her name was Max. Vampires? Shifters? Damn, this girl was better informed than I'd thought. I mean, I should be the queen of knowing that appearances don't mean a thing. I don't know why I keep expecting more from this stupid city. I should know better.

"Trust me," I say softly, narrowing my eyes slightly at Max, then glancing at the other girl. "This isn't a story you want to write. It's definitely not one you'd live to see published." You know how I know? Wolfram and Hart has their own publicists and there is no printed word out there that's negative. They'll hunt you down. Like they did Marie.

I glanced at Veronica again, as she started asking about vampires. Why did Max have to bring it up? In public, in front of civilians? This isn't really a conversation I want to be having. But on the other hand... if Max knows Angel, maybe she could be helpful. Veronica... I'd rather not drag her into any demon-y stuff she's not already involved with.

"Wait. How do you know Angel?"