Internal Affairs - Part 3 of 6
Title: Internal Affairs
Authors LJ Username: safiyabat
Artists LJ Username: dizimart
Pairing(s): Meg/Abaddon, Sam/Cara Roberts, past Meg/Castiel
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 31,924 / 5,526 chapter
Summary: AU - human. When Meg's father, Captain A. Z. Azel, was taken down for corruption, her nemesis Crowley took over the major crimes unit and Meg herself was reassigned to Internal Affairs - the least respected department in San Francisco. The more things change the more they stay the same, though - Major Crimes becomes the target of competing investigations, both by the Feds (as represented by the Winchester Brothers) and a stunningly gorgeous state prosecutor by the name of Abaddon. Can Meg convince these competing investigators to work together well enough to take down her arch-rival and take down a huge human trafficking ring?
Warnings: Violence, sexual content, reference to past dubcon. This fic deals with human trafficking.
Sam returned to the room with a resigned look on his face. It seemed to be justified, because his brother was on his feet almost as soon as he closed the door behind himself. “Really, Sam? She could be mired in with all this and you just had to go out and get your -"
Sam held up a hand. “Dr. Roberts has been very concerned about the processing and treatment of probable trafficking victims,” he interrupted, “for years. She’s been at this office for three years and she’s been keeping records. She doesn’t handle all of the trafficking cases that come through the ME’s office. She didn’t handle the two Jane Does involved with the Liu and Cho deaths. But she was able to get some interesting information.”
Abaddon frowned. “Did you sleep with that poor woman just to get information?” she accused.
“No. I went to her office just to talk.” He flopped down into one of the chairs. The look on his face didn’t scream, “I just got laid.” Instead his face was drawn, his eyes shadowed. “One thing led to another.”
“I’ll say,” Dean harrumphed. “I hope that you got some very good information out of her for all that.”
“Oh for God’s sake,” Meg interrupted, standing up. “Can we not? You pretty much tried to do the same thing when the subject first came up. Is it just because she didn’t want you that you’re feeling all bitter?”
Sam startled while Dean wheeled to face the detective. “Well I have to say that it’s a little suspicious that she wouldn’t even meet with me only a few days before and then all of a sudden she turns around and is literally all over him!”
“Wait a minute, she never even saw you? As in, literally wouldn’t meet with you?” Abaddon frowned, leaning forward despite her evident disapproval of what had just happened here.
“She said that police officers have been hassling her and others at the ME’s office,” Sam pointed out. “She said there’s always a guy from Major Crimes there when they do the autopsies on the sex workers, or even on the suspected sex workers. I wonder if she didn’t figure that you were one of them.”
Meg smirked at Dean. “Well, your whole… look does scream ‘cop.’” He smirked back at her and took a sip from his flask.
“That’s an interesting tactic.” Abaddon rested her cheek against her hand. “Literally monitoring the autopsies of every Jane Doe that comes through there. It must get exhausting.”
“And all this wound up with you guys coming back to your hotel why?” Dean scowled, waving the flask at him.
“Oh. Her office is bugged.” Sam made a face.
“Wait - they’ve bugged the ME’s office too?” Meg exploded, sitting down in the chair opposite her half-brother. “This is absurd. Over a single rookie detective’s officer-involved shooting? I mean, this is something that’s not likely to get the kid more than a slap on the wrist, a couple of months riding a desk! You have got to be kidding me!”
“Wait, too?” Sam and Dean turned to face her with identical movements, speaking at the same time. It was creepy; they needed to spend some time apart.
“Some offices at headquarters were bugged,” Abaddon explained. “To include that of Ion’s former supervisor.”
“Sam, do you remember Clarence Castiel?” Meg asked him, struck by the sudden thought that they might have known each other. “I’m sure you must have met once or twice.”
“Ah, yes.” He folded his lips together and looked away. “He didn’t much like me, I’m afraid.”
“Huh.” That was surprising; she’d thought everyone liked Sam, back in the day. “Well, anyway. He’s looking awful. I don’t think he’s sleeping much and if his office is getting bugged then he’s definitely got something to hide. What I don’t get is why this is being done. Ion is a kid, a junior detective and even that’s being kind of generous. If it were just an officer-involved shooting this would just be something that blew over. There wouldn’t be… surveillance.” She stood up, looking around herself. “Oh my God, do you think your room is being bugged right now?”
“Nope.” Dean grinned. “Thought of that already. Between Geek Boy over there and me, we’ve already dealt with it. I guess Dad’s training paid off sometimes, huh, Sammy?”
Sam’s answering smile looked forced. “Okay. So since none of this is normal for just a typical officer-involved shooting, I’m feeling like we have to go on the assumption that there’s something seriously shady going down, that it involves an awful lot of people at Major Crimes and that Crowley’s at the center of it.” He rubbed at his face. “It doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s a civil rights violation, but it’s still shady and gross and needs to be stopped. Right?”
“It doesn’t mean that it’s not a civil rights violation either,” Dean added. “I mean, all of that stuff about Ion just walking around looking for Asian men to pin stuff on seemed pretty diametrically opposed to the fourteenth amendment to me. If nothing else we’re not coming out of this without a win, Sammy.”
“Right. Well, there’s that.” Meg smiled thinly at them. She’d almost forgotten that they weren’t really all on the same team, just all working against the same people. Good thing Dean was around to remind her; she might have gotten carried away or something.
Work picked up over the next week, and they hadn’t even gotten to the part where they asked any cops any real questions yet. Dr. Roberts slowly started passing them information via contacts with Sam. Meg got to know her a little better as they passed each other at the hotel; she seemed nice enough. Intelligent, direct, brave and bold. Sam was - for once - being honest about his intentions and she was aware that there was some risk, but she was willing to take that risk. “None of those people in those lockers downtown volunteered to be there,” she shrugged. “I want to help stop it from happening to any more people.”
On Wednesday Meg came out of the office to find her tires slashed - three of them, so her insurance company wouldn’t pay for the tow or to replace them. Abaddon came to pick her up, silently fuming as long as people were around. Once they were in the car with the doors closed, however, she let loose. “They went after your car?” she objected. Meg had never seen her angry, and she had to admit that she kind of liked seeing so much passion in her. Her hands gripped the wheel, her hair moved with her words as her head jerked with rage. “They went after your car? I know I said that I was concerned for your safety but Meg, this is just… I mean, it’s petty! If they’re going to come after you, they should come after you not this… penny-ante crap!”
Meg let herself grin. Abaddon had been almost strictly professional since confirming that Meg was, indeed, interested in women but it was nice to see her passions so aroused. “It’s the beginning,” she pointed out. “They’d do this to any kind of a whistleblower, really. Anyone who cooperated with an outside investigation, which is what I’m doing. It’s under orders; they just happen to be nice orders.”
Those incredible eyes glanced at her for a moment. “Nice orders, huh?”
“Well, I mean, it’s no secret that I’ve never liked Crowley. That’s why the first thing he did when he took over Major Crimes was to get rid of me. But they’re also… nice orders.” She let herself meet Abaddon’s eyes. “I mean, the state was nice enough to send their very best special prosecutor.”
“Their best?” Abaddon grinned. “Is that all?”
“The best, the most competent, the scariest and the best looking.” Meg chuckled. “Crowley’s going to be shaking once he gets a load of you.”
“Well then,” Abaddon purred. “Let’s make sure he gets a nice big dose.”
The Winchesters agreed, once informed of the situation, that it was probably time to turn up the heat on Crowley just a little bit. It was funny, Meg thought. Ion had become almost an afterthought in the whole affair; the men he’d killed just names on a piece of paper. They were real people, and people who were almost certainly innocent of the crimes reported about them. They’d (probably) been fighting something huge, something larger than themselves, and now after death they’d been caught up in something larger than themselves again. The men themselves had fallen into the cracks between these two monoliths; she hoped that after everything was all said and done that they could be pulled out.
Meg and Abaddon decided to set up a meeting with Ion two days after Meg’s tires were slashed. Abaddon wanted to have the meeting earlier, but Ion had the right to have his union rep with him at the meeting and he was invoking that right now. The meeting was held in Meg’s office, because Meg could control the atmosphere and the temperature and she could make sure that the visitors’ chairs were as uncomfortable as possible and because dear little brother Sam had hacked the surveillance devices and was recording the entire mess from his hotel room. She wasn’t sure that was strictly legal, but she figured that was his job to know, not hers. That was why they had two lawyers on the team, right?
Abaddon sat beside Meg, in an office chair that she borrowed from one of the admins who was out on maternity leave. If she found it uncomfortable, she didn’t say so. Ion showed up to the meeting precisely on time. His union rep, against all logic and probability, was Crowley.
Meg bit her tongue. This had to be contrary to union regulations - she would have to check her own handbook later, when she got home. He was what the union was supposed to guard against, or part of it anyway. How could he possibly be the union rep? But hey - Crowley had gotten her reassigned down into IAD so he obviously had some pull. The smarmy bastard introduced himself to Abaddon, who had a cold and polite response to him. She was marginally more polite to Ion. Marginally.
I see, Meg thought to herself. Good cop, bad cop. It would have been good to discuss this beforehand, but she guessed it made sense. After all, Abaddon was the big bad special prosecutor coming in from Sacramento. That kind of had Bad Cop tattooed on its forehead. “Alright. Ion, I’m glad you could make it. First of all, I want to assure you that this is not a formal IAD hearing. This is just a meeting to get your side of the story, get a sense for what really happened.”
“Detective Ion has already given a statement. What really happened has been described for the record in its entirety. I should think that the San Francisco Police Department would have better things to do with its detectives than to have them sat around in meetings all day. Crime is happening, Josh’s talents are best used solving them.” Crowley smirked at Meg. “Not playing nanny to a bunch of grown adults who’ve long since outgrown the nursery.”
Someday Crowley was going to burn for that, but there were witnesses right now. “Be that as it may, this case has attracted a great deal of attention,” Meg told him in a calm voice. “The people of the city are concerned about the goings on in the police department, and it’s our job to satisfy them that they can have trust in the men and women who carry these badges. I want nothing more,” she said directly to Ion, leaning forward and looking into his eyes, “than to be able to go out and tell the world that they have nothing to fear. That two human traffickers are off the streets and while it’s a shame that we couldn’t have taken them alive, you had no other choice and that the Department has done its duty to ensure that everything is on the up and up.” She leaned back a little and gave him her very best sincere smile. “And I’m positive that this is the conclusion we’ll come up with.”
“Then why are we bothering with this face at all?” Crowley waved a hand leisurely. “If you know that Ion is in the right, and I know that Ion is in the right, and Ion certainly has no doubt in his mind that he is in the right, then why are we even bothering with the charade of sitting here in this office? Those people out there, who’ve been protesting for weeks, they don’t care that we’re sat in here talking about this like civilized people. They want to see poor Josh’s head on a pike.”
Ion flinched at that. The poor kid’s eyes were bloodshot, and his hand shook the few times Meg was allowed to see it. He was terrified.
“Because, Lieutenant Crowley, we’re obligated to follow the rule of law,” Abaddon pointed out in a harsh tone. “That means that even though we believe in Detective Ion’s innocence unless he’s proven guilty, we’re obligated to follow all of the laws and ensure that there’s been no wrongdoing. Someone somewhere must have some inkling that not everything’s on the up-and-up, because it got to a point that a special prosecutor was called in.” She gave Crowley a bright smile. “That would be me, by the way.”
“That wouldn’t be someone with a special axe to grind against me, now, would it?” the Englishman objected. “Because honestly, that’s just absurd and if anyone should be prosecuted it should be her, for wasting state funds and a state prosecutor’s time on something like poor Ion’s sad incident here. I mean, those men were trying to kill him, with guns -"
Abaddon held up a single pale hand, and Crowley shut up. “Guns that were melted down within days of the incident, Lt. Crowley. Which seems unusually expeditious, considering that there is evidence still sitting in lockup from the Zebra Killers.” She gave a tiny, shark-like smile.
For the first time, Crowley looked the slightest bit uncomfortable. “I’m sure I don’t know what happened there. Shouldn’t that be something that Internal Affairs looks into?”
“Of course,” Meg told him sweetly. “Any time that a case is endangered because the chain of custody is interrupted, Internal Affairs naturally gets curious. I noticed that the destroy order on that evidence was signed by you personally, Lt. Crowley.”
“Impossible,” he sniffed. “At any rate, none of this has anything to do with young Joshua here. What exactly is it that you would like to know?” His face was perfectly calm and his voice even, but a little sheen of sweat had started to reflect the fluorescent light on the top of his head.
Meg and Abaddon exchanged glances before the former cleared her throat. Did Abaddon want her to lead off? She supposed she could get started just as easily. They were in her office, after all. “Detective Ion,” she began, as gently as she could, “I’m curious. What led you to believe that Mr. Liu and Mr. Cho were engaged in human trafficking?”
“They fit the description of two known human trafficking suspects,” Crowley snapped. “Who happened to have, in their custody, two young girls who we had received prior notice were going to be transported into the city for trafficking purposes that night.”
Abaddon nodded, once, and looked down at her notes. “And your source was…”
“Confidential informant,” the supervisor told them.
“Come on, Crowley. You know that doesn’t hold. It won’t be released to the papers or in a courtroom, but you need to tell us who the informant was if you want us to be able to back you up.” Meg put the folder in her hands onto the desk, closed, and folded her hands on top of it.
“The word, Detective, is ‘confidential.’ I suggest you look it up.” Crowley glanced at Ion. “Look, it’s not as though it matters. The fact is that they had the girls in their custody, they were dragging them away and they shot at Joshua.”
“Actually, they were members of a community group that tries to rescue trafficked women,” Abaddon informed the men, while Meg carefully watched Ion’s face. His mouth didn’t move, but his eyes - those tightened as they darted toward Crowley. “According to these members of the community, those two men were out trying to rescue those girls.”
Crowley didn’t miss a beat. “If that’s true - which I highly doubt - then they were out putting themselves in harm’s way by interfering with police business. But there’s no way that they were trying to rescue anyone. They’re just pulling the wool over your eyes, which is why you couldn’t hack it in Major Crimes. Those men were known traffickers.”
“Based on?” Meg addressed her question to Ion. She knew Crowley would be the one to answer, but she directed her question to Ion anyway, just to see how he reacted.
“They fit the description of human trafficking suspects.” Crowley repeated the words in a singsong voice and rolled his eyes. Ion looked down and licked his lips, but Crowley kept up his dog-and-pony show. “Are we done here? I’m fairly certain that there are real crimes to solve, rather than wasting resources on the deaths of two scumbags whom no one will miss.”
“I’m reasonably sure that we’re done with Detective Ion for the time being,” Abaddon replied in her measured purr. “We’ll probably have more questions for him another time. In the meantime, if you can come up with any hard evidence backing your claim against Mr. Liu or Mr. Cho, please let me know. It would be extremely helpful to your cause.”
They left the office soon after that, retreating to the Winchesters’ hotel room. Sam had set up a nice little workstation with a spare laptop that would let him monitor the bugs that Crowley’s team was using. “Did you get all that?” Abaddon asked him without preamble.
“Yup,” he told her, not minding the rudeness. “Recorded everything. It’s already saved to a server back in Washington, with a copy in your in box.”
“And you’re both sure that this is legal,” Meg pressed.
“Everyone is informed when entering the headquarters building that the entire premises are monitored via video surveillance,” Abaddon assured her. “It’s fine. If anything, his wiretap is illegal because it was performed without a warrant.”
Sam ran his fingers through his hair. “I got a warrant. Federal. Came through today.”
“Oh?” Both Abaddon and Meg turned to look at him. “What exactly does it cover?”
“Well, anything that happens inside the station is covered by the instructions the chief gave to you, Meg. As the investigator anything that you then choose to turn over to us is at your discretion. I mean, you’d probably have to come testify at a federal trial, but yeah. But it covers anything that anyone from the Major Crimes unit might say or do via electronic means or via telephone.” He grinned a little, the closest to a real grin that she’d seen from him since their reunion. “And I get to go through all their computers.”
“Don’t we have to notify them that we’re doing this?” Abaddon wondered.
“Not as part of an ongoing federal investigation, and because it does involve the illegal transport of foreign nationals onto United States soil this involves issues of homeland security.” Sam blushed.
“You got a warrant under the Patriot Act?” Meg gasped.
“Something like that,” he admitted. “It took some fancy footwork but it’s all legal. Trust me.”
Meg snorted, but she couldn’t fault him. “I think I need a bath just thinking about the whole concept of wiretapping people’s communications without their knowledge,” she commented, rubbing her arms.
“Yeah,” he sighed. “I usually get to be the one prosecuting it when it happens to others, not the one doing it.” He turned back to the screen. “Whatever it takes, though, right? It is legal, and he’s using a position of authority to at the very least shelter a killer. I suspect something worse. I mean, every time a dead sex worker is brought into the ME’s office a detective sits through the autopsy and directs it? Like, tells the ME what to write down and what to put in their report? That just isn’t right.”
“Why haven’t they reported that?” Meg wondered. “I mean, that alone would be enough to nail them.”
Abaddon put a hand on her shoulder. “Because they probably don’t think anything would be done. They’re scared. It’s not because of you personally.”
Meg let herself lean into the touch, just a little. “Okay. Um. So we’ve rattled Crowley’s cage a bit. What next?”
“We’ve got warrants, right?” Abaddon grinned. “We listen.”
Sam glanced at the women. “Okay. Well, I’ve got some super secret Justice Department stuff to do… so…”
Meg stared at him for a moment, but he met her eyes squarely and glanced at Abaddon’s hand. The hand that still rested on her shoulder. “Oh - right. You’ve probably just got a hot date with Dr. Roberts,” she teased.
“That too,” he added with another little real smile. “I gotta go coif my hair or something.”
Meg ushered Abaddon out, and the prosecutor took her across the street to her own hotel. “Well, I suppose that we can work until Dean gets back from wherever it is that he’s gone,” she suggested. “I mean, it’s been what, two weeks, three? I guess we’re entitled to a night off, too. We won’t tease out the details of whatever’s going on with Major Crimes in one night either way.” She glanced at Meg, expression neutral.
Meg paused. “Are you suggesting that we go out… socially?”
“Maybe just the two of us?” Abaddon confirmed. “In a social and maybe slightly overly friendly context?”
Meg smiled. “Can we start with a bar? Since we’re off the clock and all?”
Abaddon was more than happy to start with a bar; she picked one near the hotel that was a little more upscale than Meg usually liked but with a date like that Meg wasn’t complaining about anything. She ordered a gin and tonic; Abaddon’s drink was a martini with a twist as a garnish instead of olives, a little bit of a quirk that Meg hadn’t really seen before. “So,” Meg said by way of breaking the ice. “Special Prosecutor for the State of California. That sounds…”
“Lawyering isn’t exciting to anyone who isn’t a lawyer,” her date admitted. “I’m not just a special prosecutor. I’m a normal prosecutor too. But when these types of cases come up, where a local prosecutor has to recuse himself or when it’s a special case like this one, then yeah. I’m usually the one sent in.”
“So you must travel all over the state,” she prompted.
“Pretty much. I’ve even done work up near Donner Pass.” She shook her head. “Called one of my old law school professors and told him to eat his heart out. I think he thought I was kidding.” She took a sip from her drink, still looking somehow delicate. “And you’ve lived in San Francisco all your life.”
“You bet.”
“Never left?”
“I went away on vacations a few times.” She grinned. “My dad might have been - well, the devil, really, or close to it. But he was still my dad, and he raised us both to have a strong devotion to the city. I mean, we were both expected to become cops here. And we did. We wanted to be good ones.” She grimaced, thinking about Tommy. He’d been a good cop.
“Do you ever think about leaving, working somewhere else?”
I think about losing myself in your smile, she almost blurted out. Fortunately she still had enough presence of mind to say, “Nah. I mean, where would I go? After what happened with my dad? No other police force would ever take me. I’m lucky to be stuck in my cellar, waiting to collect my pension.”
“I think you’re underestimating your talent. But it could be that this is your opportunity to shine. This case is a good chance to showcase what you’re capable of. I’m seeing it, the Winchesters are seeing it.” She reached out and put a hand on Meg’s.
“The Winchesters won’t say a goddamn good thing about me,” she snorted. “My father ruined their lives.” Abaddon’s hand on hers was like a rope for a drowning woman; she could cling to it and think she was connected to something again. It was false hope, of course; Abaddon was going to go back to Sacramento eventually and Meg would be left here with nothing. But for now, they were both here and attracted.
“You’re not your father. I think Sam sees that. He seems to respect you.” She offered a shy, small smile. “He was very encouraging of you coming out here tonight.”
Here she was getting all mopey about her career and her family again when she had the most beautiful and wonderful woman in the world sitting right across from her. Stupid! “That’s true, he was. I’ll have to send him a fruit basket.” She sipped from her drink. “So. Are you from California originally?”
“Actually I’m not. I was born and raised in Normal, Illinois. It’s a nice enough place I suppose, but if there’s one thing I wasn’t it was normal.” They shared a giggle at the joke. “I’m ambitious. I’ve always been. I’ve always been a fighter - seen something that I wanted, a goal that I needed to achieve, and gone after it.”
Meg looked at Abaddon, looked into her eyes, and knew the feeling. “Does that leave you with time for hobbies?” she asked, toying with her glass.
“I watch baseball if I have time.” Abaddon smiled.
Meg let her mind think about getting to second with Abaddon. “Do you have a favorite team?”
“Right now I’m a fan of the Giants.”
They finished their drinks among more small talk. Meg learned that Abaddon also had an interest in motorcycles, a passion they shared. They discovered that a dinner is much more relaxed and pleasant without the Winchesters along, which again struck Meg as odd, but she wasn’t going to think about the brothers grim right now. After dinner, as they prepared to leave the restaurant, Abaddon asked Meg to stop back at her room. “Just for a little while, if that’s okay.”
It was more than okay, and Meg followed the redhead out of the restaurant. Before they could begin the short walk back to the hotel, though, they found themselves approached by a tall, slender, fresh-faced young blond man whose entire carriage and being just screamed, “cop.”
Abaddon put herself between Meg and the cop even as Meg reached for her gun and badge. “Hold it right there, buddy,” the lawyer demanded in a tone that would not be disobeyed. “Where exactly do you think you’re going?”
“I - I’m here to give something to Meg Masters,” the man said. “It’s from Lt. Castiel.” He kept his hands where the women could see them, although he didn’t raise them for fear of causing a scene. “I’m sorry - I’m just a school resource officer. I don’t mean to cause any trouble.”
Meg kept her gun on the young man while Abaddon approached. “Who are you?”
He slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out a flash drive. “Officer Alfie Samandriel. I mostly work in middle schools.”
Of course this kid worked in middle schools. He was too young for high school kids to take him seriously. For crying out loud, how did they let kids this young even go to the Academy? Meg lowered the gun. No one else on the street seemed to have noticed, but that didn’t mean that they wouldn’t eventually. “Did he say why he wanted you to deliver this?” Abaddon demanded.
“He said someone was watching him. I mean, it was weird, ma’am. He made me come into the men’s room with him and he passed it to me while he was pretending to… you know.” A deep blush spread out over his pale face.
“That Clarence.” Meg shook her head. “Always with the stealth. How did he know where to find me?”
“Oh, he didn’t. I followed you from headquarters.” He smiled. Maybe the kid had some cop in him after all. “Look, if he went to all that trouble to hide that thing, I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know what’s on it. It’s enough for me to know that it’s important; I believe in Lt. Castiel.” He backed away, disappearing into the night.
The women looked at each other. It wasn’t much of a detour to drop the flash drive off with Sam. Meg volunteered herself, letting Abaddon go back to her room and wait while Meg dropped in on Winchesterland. Sam was alone, having lied about the hot date to get the women to go on their own hot date. Meg relayed the story of how she’d acquired the drive, stole some of the hotel mouthwash and then went away again.
Abaddon greeted her at the door, already out of her heels. They looked at each other’s eyes for a moment and then Abaddon leaned down to kiss Meg. Meg didn’t need to pinch herself to be told that this was real, didn’t need to double check. If it was a dream she didn’t want to wake up. Abaddon’s kiss was a fantasy come to life, a vision made real. She cradled Meg’s head in her hands, taking from her mouth everything she had to offer and returning power and confidence and grace and maybe a little minty toothpaste flavor.
They parted, but only for breath before Meg reached out and brought them together again. A tilt of her head and a slip of the tongue deepened the kiss, eliciting a low groan from the fiery prosecutor. Still locked into the kiss, Abaddon guided the pair to a chair, sitting down and pulling Meg down on top of her.
Meg yielded, straddling her partner much to her partner’s delight. She traced the outline of Abaddon’s jawline with a feather-light touch before going over it again with her lips and the tiniest, most gentle touches of her teeth. Abaddon’s impeccably-manicured hands gripped her shoulders as she hissed with pleasure.
She let Abaddon help her remove her suit jacket; after all, there was no point in getting the thing all wrinkled, and it meant that those perfect hands would be one layer closer to being where she wanted them - on her bare skin, anywhere on her bare skin. She could already feel their heat through the thin cotton of her blouse; it was enough to have her feeling warmer already.
But it was not enough for Abaddon, who was mouthing along her neck. She wanted to bite, she wanted to bite so badly but they had to go to work and she couldn’t. Meg could practically feel her holding back. “These buttons,” she growled out as she fussed with Meg’s blouse, “are a pain.”
“Close enough,” Meg decided, once enough buttons had come undone to pull the blouse over her head. It was bad for the blouse or so she’d been told, she’d lose buttons that way eventually, but she didn’t care. Right now she had Abaddon looking at her body, just her in a lacy bra and Abaddon’s hungry blue eyes on her.
Her own hands hadn’t been idle; Abaddon’s blue blouse hung open before her to reveal her own beautiful skin. Meg couldn’t help but want to touch it, taste it. She caressed Abaddon’s face with her hand again, this time letting the hand travel down lower, enjoying the feel of that smooth, hot flesh under her hand. Their lips met again, but only briefly. Abaddon moved her head to bring her lips further down, nuzzling Meg’s neck and nibbling along her clavicle. One hand passed along Meg’s left breast, drawing out a gasp from her.
Naturally, that was when both phones rang at once. Meg inched back slightly, groaning in an entirely different manner. “We could always just ignore them,” she suggested.
“Not if they’re both going off,” Abaddon sighed. “Might as well see what the boys want.”
Sam was the one calling Meg. “This had better be important,” she told him.
“The gun found on William Liu was used at another murder,” he told her. “Dean’s got his FBI buddy locking down the evidence so their techs can grab the gun for us, but we need to get down there and deal with this mess.”
From the look on Abaddon’s face, she was getting a similar message. “Fine,” Meg sighed. “We’ll be down in front as soon as I can find my shirt.”
Back to Chapter Two -- On to Chapter Four
Authors LJ Username: safiyabat
Artists LJ Username: dizimart
Pairing(s): Meg/Abaddon, Sam/Cara Roberts, past Meg/Castiel
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 31,924 / 5,526 chapter
Summary: AU - human. When Meg's father, Captain A. Z. Azel, was taken down for corruption, her nemesis Crowley took over the major crimes unit and Meg herself was reassigned to Internal Affairs - the least respected department in San Francisco. The more things change the more they stay the same, though - Major Crimes becomes the target of competing investigations, both by the Feds (as represented by the Winchester Brothers) and a stunningly gorgeous state prosecutor by the name of Abaddon. Can Meg convince these competing investigators to work together well enough to take down her arch-rival and take down a huge human trafficking ring?
Warnings: Violence, sexual content, reference to past dubcon. This fic deals with human trafficking.
Sam returned to the room with a resigned look on his face. It seemed to be justified, because his brother was on his feet almost as soon as he closed the door behind himself. “Really, Sam? She could be mired in with all this and you just had to go out and get your -"
Sam held up a hand. “Dr. Roberts has been very concerned about the processing and treatment of probable trafficking victims,” he interrupted, “for years. She’s been at this office for three years and she’s been keeping records. She doesn’t handle all of the trafficking cases that come through the ME’s office. She didn’t handle the two Jane Does involved with the Liu and Cho deaths. But she was able to get some interesting information.”
Abaddon frowned. “Did you sleep with that poor woman just to get information?” she accused.
“No. I went to her office just to talk.” He flopped down into one of the chairs. The look on his face didn’t scream, “I just got laid.” Instead his face was drawn, his eyes shadowed. “One thing led to another.”
“I’ll say,” Dean harrumphed. “I hope that you got some very good information out of her for all that.”
“Oh for God’s sake,” Meg interrupted, standing up. “Can we not? You pretty much tried to do the same thing when the subject first came up. Is it just because she didn’t want you that you’re feeling all bitter?”
Sam startled while Dean wheeled to face the detective. “Well I have to say that it’s a little suspicious that she wouldn’t even meet with me only a few days before and then all of a sudden she turns around and is literally all over him!”
“Wait a minute, she never even saw you? As in, literally wouldn’t meet with you?” Abaddon frowned, leaning forward despite her evident disapproval of what had just happened here.
“She said that police officers have been hassling her and others at the ME’s office,” Sam pointed out. “She said there’s always a guy from Major Crimes there when they do the autopsies on the sex workers, or even on the suspected sex workers. I wonder if she didn’t figure that you were one of them.”
Meg smirked at Dean. “Well, your whole… look does scream ‘cop.’” He smirked back at her and took a sip from his flask.
“That’s an interesting tactic.” Abaddon rested her cheek against her hand. “Literally monitoring the autopsies of every Jane Doe that comes through there. It must get exhausting.”
“And all this wound up with you guys coming back to your hotel why?” Dean scowled, waving the flask at him.
“Oh. Her office is bugged.” Sam made a face.
“Wait - they’ve bugged the ME’s office too?” Meg exploded, sitting down in the chair opposite her half-brother. “This is absurd. Over a single rookie detective’s officer-involved shooting? I mean, this is something that’s not likely to get the kid more than a slap on the wrist, a couple of months riding a desk! You have got to be kidding me!”
“Wait, too?” Sam and Dean turned to face her with identical movements, speaking at the same time. It was creepy; they needed to spend some time apart.
“Some offices at headquarters were bugged,” Abaddon explained. “To include that of Ion’s former supervisor.”
“Sam, do you remember Clarence Castiel?” Meg asked him, struck by the sudden thought that they might have known each other. “I’m sure you must have met once or twice.”
“Ah, yes.” He folded his lips together and looked away. “He didn’t much like me, I’m afraid.”
“Huh.” That was surprising; she’d thought everyone liked Sam, back in the day. “Well, anyway. He’s looking awful. I don’t think he’s sleeping much and if his office is getting bugged then he’s definitely got something to hide. What I don’t get is why this is being done. Ion is a kid, a junior detective and even that’s being kind of generous. If it were just an officer-involved shooting this would just be something that blew over. There wouldn’t be… surveillance.” She stood up, looking around herself. “Oh my God, do you think your room is being bugged right now?”
“Nope.” Dean grinned. “Thought of that already. Between Geek Boy over there and me, we’ve already dealt with it. I guess Dad’s training paid off sometimes, huh, Sammy?”
Sam’s answering smile looked forced. “Okay. So since none of this is normal for just a typical officer-involved shooting, I’m feeling like we have to go on the assumption that there’s something seriously shady going down, that it involves an awful lot of people at Major Crimes and that Crowley’s at the center of it.” He rubbed at his face. “It doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s a civil rights violation, but it’s still shady and gross and needs to be stopped. Right?”
“It doesn’t mean that it’s not a civil rights violation either,” Dean added. “I mean, all of that stuff about Ion just walking around looking for Asian men to pin stuff on seemed pretty diametrically opposed to the fourteenth amendment to me. If nothing else we’re not coming out of this without a win, Sammy.”
“Right. Well, there’s that.” Meg smiled thinly at them. She’d almost forgotten that they weren’t really all on the same team, just all working against the same people. Good thing Dean was around to remind her; she might have gotten carried away or something.
Work picked up over the next week, and they hadn’t even gotten to the part where they asked any cops any real questions yet. Dr. Roberts slowly started passing them information via contacts with Sam. Meg got to know her a little better as they passed each other at the hotel; she seemed nice enough. Intelligent, direct, brave and bold. Sam was - for once - being honest about his intentions and she was aware that there was some risk, but she was willing to take that risk. “None of those people in those lockers downtown volunteered to be there,” she shrugged. “I want to help stop it from happening to any more people.”
On Wednesday Meg came out of the office to find her tires slashed - three of them, so her insurance company wouldn’t pay for the tow or to replace them. Abaddon came to pick her up, silently fuming as long as people were around. Once they were in the car with the doors closed, however, she let loose. “They went after your car?” she objected. Meg had never seen her angry, and she had to admit that she kind of liked seeing so much passion in her. Her hands gripped the wheel, her hair moved with her words as her head jerked with rage. “They went after your car? I know I said that I was concerned for your safety but Meg, this is just… I mean, it’s petty! If they’re going to come after you, they should come after you not this… penny-ante crap!”
Meg let herself grin. Abaddon had been almost strictly professional since confirming that Meg was, indeed, interested in women but it was nice to see her passions so aroused. “It’s the beginning,” she pointed out. “They’d do this to any kind of a whistleblower, really. Anyone who cooperated with an outside investigation, which is what I’m doing. It’s under orders; they just happen to be nice orders.”
Those incredible eyes glanced at her for a moment. “Nice orders, huh?”
“Well, I mean, it’s no secret that I’ve never liked Crowley. That’s why the first thing he did when he took over Major Crimes was to get rid of me. But they’re also… nice orders.” She let herself meet Abaddon’s eyes. “I mean, the state was nice enough to send their very best special prosecutor.”
“Their best?” Abaddon grinned. “Is that all?”
“The best, the most competent, the scariest and the best looking.” Meg chuckled. “Crowley’s going to be shaking once he gets a load of you.”
“Well then,” Abaddon purred. “Let’s make sure he gets a nice big dose.”
The Winchesters agreed, once informed of the situation, that it was probably time to turn up the heat on Crowley just a little bit. It was funny, Meg thought. Ion had become almost an afterthought in the whole affair; the men he’d killed just names on a piece of paper. They were real people, and people who were almost certainly innocent of the crimes reported about them. They’d (probably) been fighting something huge, something larger than themselves, and now after death they’d been caught up in something larger than themselves again. The men themselves had fallen into the cracks between these two monoliths; she hoped that after everything was all said and done that they could be pulled out.
Meg and Abaddon decided to set up a meeting with Ion two days after Meg’s tires were slashed. Abaddon wanted to have the meeting earlier, but Ion had the right to have his union rep with him at the meeting and he was invoking that right now. The meeting was held in Meg’s office, because Meg could control the atmosphere and the temperature and she could make sure that the visitors’ chairs were as uncomfortable as possible and because dear little brother Sam had hacked the surveillance devices and was recording the entire mess from his hotel room. She wasn’t sure that was strictly legal, but she figured that was his job to know, not hers. That was why they had two lawyers on the team, right?
Abaddon sat beside Meg, in an office chair that she borrowed from one of the admins who was out on maternity leave. If she found it uncomfortable, she didn’t say so. Ion showed up to the meeting precisely on time. His union rep, against all logic and probability, was Crowley.
Meg bit her tongue. This had to be contrary to union regulations - she would have to check her own handbook later, when she got home. He was what the union was supposed to guard against, or part of it anyway. How could he possibly be the union rep? But hey - Crowley had gotten her reassigned down into IAD so he obviously had some pull. The smarmy bastard introduced himself to Abaddon, who had a cold and polite response to him. She was marginally more polite to Ion. Marginally.
I see, Meg thought to herself. Good cop, bad cop. It would have been good to discuss this beforehand, but she guessed it made sense. After all, Abaddon was the big bad special prosecutor coming in from Sacramento. That kind of had Bad Cop tattooed on its forehead. “Alright. Ion, I’m glad you could make it. First of all, I want to assure you that this is not a formal IAD hearing. This is just a meeting to get your side of the story, get a sense for what really happened.”
“Detective Ion has already given a statement. What really happened has been described for the record in its entirety. I should think that the San Francisco Police Department would have better things to do with its detectives than to have them sat around in meetings all day. Crime is happening, Josh’s talents are best used solving them.” Crowley smirked at Meg. “Not playing nanny to a bunch of grown adults who’ve long since outgrown the nursery.”
Someday Crowley was going to burn for that, but there were witnesses right now. “Be that as it may, this case has attracted a great deal of attention,” Meg told him in a calm voice. “The people of the city are concerned about the goings on in the police department, and it’s our job to satisfy them that they can have trust in the men and women who carry these badges. I want nothing more,” she said directly to Ion, leaning forward and looking into his eyes, “than to be able to go out and tell the world that they have nothing to fear. That two human traffickers are off the streets and while it’s a shame that we couldn’t have taken them alive, you had no other choice and that the Department has done its duty to ensure that everything is on the up and up.” She leaned back a little and gave him her very best sincere smile. “And I’m positive that this is the conclusion we’ll come up with.”
“Then why are we bothering with this face at all?” Crowley waved a hand leisurely. “If you know that Ion is in the right, and I know that Ion is in the right, and Ion certainly has no doubt in his mind that he is in the right, then why are we even bothering with the charade of sitting here in this office? Those people out there, who’ve been protesting for weeks, they don’t care that we’re sat in here talking about this like civilized people. They want to see poor Josh’s head on a pike.”
Ion flinched at that. The poor kid’s eyes were bloodshot, and his hand shook the few times Meg was allowed to see it. He was terrified.
“Because, Lieutenant Crowley, we’re obligated to follow the rule of law,” Abaddon pointed out in a harsh tone. “That means that even though we believe in Detective Ion’s innocence unless he’s proven guilty, we’re obligated to follow all of the laws and ensure that there’s been no wrongdoing. Someone somewhere must have some inkling that not everything’s on the up-and-up, because it got to a point that a special prosecutor was called in.” She gave Crowley a bright smile. “That would be me, by the way.”
“That wouldn’t be someone with a special axe to grind against me, now, would it?” the Englishman objected. “Because honestly, that’s just absurd and if anyone should be prosecuted it should be her, for wasting state funds and a state prosecutor’s time on something like poor Ion’s sad incident here. I mean, those men were trying to kill him, with guns -"
Abaddon held up a single pale hand, and Crowley shut up. “Guns that were melted down within days of the incident, Lt. Crowley. Which seems unusually expeditious, considering that there is evidence still sitting in lockup from the Zebra Killers.” She gave a tiny, shark-like smile.
For the first time, Crowley looked the slightest bit uncomfortable. “I’m sure I don’t know what happened there. Shouldn’t that be something that Internal Affairs looks into?”
“Of course,” Meg told him sweetly. “Any time that a case is endangered because the chain of custody is interrupted, Internal Affairs naturally gets curious. I noticed that the destroy order on that evidence was signed by you personally, Lt. Crowley.”
“Impossible,” he sniffed. “At any rate, none of this has anything to do with young Joshua here. What exactly is it that you would like to know?” His face was perfectly calm and his voice even, but a little sheen of sweat had started to reflect the fluorescent light on the top of his head.
Meg and Abaddon exchanged glances before the former cleared her throat. Did Abaddon want her to lead off? She supposed she could get started just as easily. They were in her office, after all. “Detective Ion,” she began, as gently as she could, “I’m curious. What led you to believe that Mr. Liu and Mr. Cho were engaged in human trafficking?”
“They fit the description of two known human trafficking suspects,” Crowley snapped. “Who happened to have, in their custody, two young girls who we had received prior notice were going to be transported into the city for trafficking purposes that night.”
Abaddon nodded, once, and looked down at her notes. “And your source was…”
“Confidential informant,” the supervisor told them.
“Come on, Crowley. You know that doesn’t hold. It won’t be released to the papers or in a courtroom, but you need to tell us who the informant was if you want us to be able to back you up.” Meg put the folder in her hands onto the desk, closed, and folded her hands on top of it.
“The word, Detective, is ‘confidential.’ I suggest you look it up.” Crowley glanced at Ion. “Look, it’s not as though it matters. The fact is that they had the girls in their custody, they were dragging them away and they shot at Joshua.”
“Actually, they were members of a community group that tries to rescue trafficked women,” Abaddon informed the men, while Meg carefully watched Ion’s face. His mouth didn’t move, but his eyes - those tightened as they darted toward Crowley. “According to these members of the community, those two men were out trying to rescue those girls.”
Crowley didn’t miss a beat. “If that’s true - which I highly doubt - then they were out putting themselves in harm’s way by interfering with police business. But there’s no way that they were trying to rescue anyone. They’re just pulling the wool over your eyes, which is why you couldn’t hack it in Major Crimes. Those men were known traffickers.”
“Based on?” Meg addressed her question to Ion. She knew Crowley would be the one to answer, but she directed her question to Ion anyway, just to see how he reacted.
“They fit the description of human trafficking suspects.” Crowley repeated the words in a singsong voice and rolled his eyes. Ion looked down and licked his lips, but Crowley kept up his dog-and-pony show. “Are we done here? I’m fairly certain that there are real crimes to solve, rather than wasting resources on the deaths of two scumbags whom no one will miss.”
“I’m reasonably sure that we’re done with Detective Ion for the time being,” Abaddon replied in her measured purr. “We’ll probably have more questions for him another time. In the meantime, if you can come up with any hard evidence backing your claim against Mr. Liu or Mr. Cho, please let me know. It would be extremely helpful to your cause.”
They left the office soon after that, retreating to the Winchesters’ hotel room. Sam had set up a nice little workstation with a spare laptop that would let him monitor the bugs that Crowley’s team was using. “Did you get all that?” Abaddon asked him without preamble.
“Yup,” he told her, not minding the rudeness. “Recorded everything. It’s already saved to a server back in Washington, with a copy in your in box.”
“And you’re both sure that this is legal,” Meg pressed.
“Everyone is informed when entering the headquarters building that the entire premises are monitored via video surveillance,” Abaddon assured her. “It’s fine. If anything, his wiretap is illegal because it was performed without a warrant.”
Sam ran his fingers through his hair. “I got a warrant. Federal. Came through today.”
“Oh?” Both Abaddon and Meg turned to look at him. “What exactly does it cover?”
“Well, anything that happens inside the station is covered by the instructions the chief gave to you, Meg. As the investigator anything that you then choose to turn over to us is at your discretion. I mean, you’d probably have to come testify at a federal trial, but yeah. But it covers anything that anyone from the Major Crimes unit might say or do via electronic means or via telephone.” He grinned a little, the closest to a real grin that she’d seen from him since their reunion. “And I get to go through all their computers.”
“Don’t we have to notify them that we’re doing this?” Abaddon wondered.
“Not as part of an ongoing federal investigation, and because it does involve the illegal transport of foreign nationals onto United States soil this involves issues of homeland security.” Sam blushed.
“You got a warrant under the Patriot Act?” Meg gasped.
“Something like that,” he admitted. “It took some fancy footwork but it’s all legal. Trust me.”
Meg snorted, but she couldn’t fault him. “I think I need a bath just thinking about the whole concept of wiretapping people’s communications without their knowledge,” she commented, rubbing her arms.
“Yeah,” he sighed. “I usually get to be the one prosecuting it when it happens to others, not the one doing it.” He turned back to the screen. “Whatever it takes, though, right? It is legal, and he’s using a position of authority to at the very least shelter a killer. I suspect something worse. I mean, every time a dead sex worker is brought into the ME’s office a detective sits through the autopsy and directs it? Like, tells the ME what to write down and what to put in their report? That just isn’t right.”
“Why haven’t they reported that?” Meg wondered. “I mean, that alone would be enough to nail them.”
Abaddon put a hand on her shoulder. “Because they probably don’t think anything would be done. They’re scared. It’s not because of you personally.”
Meg let herself lean into the touch, just a little. “Okay. Um. So we’ve rattled Crowley’s cage a bit. What next?”
“We’ve got warrants, right?” Abaddon grinned. “We listen.”
Sam glanced at the women. “Okay. Well, I’ve got some super secret Justice Department stuff to do… so…”
Meg stared at him for a moment, but he met her eyes squarely and glanced at Abaddon’s hand. The hand that still rested on her shoulder. “Oh - right. You’ve probably just got a hot date with Dr. Roberts,” she teased.
“That too,” he added with another little real smile. “I gotta go coif my hair or something.”
Meg ushered Abaddon out, and the prosecutor took her across the street to her own hotel. “Well, I suppose that we can work until Dean gets back from wherever it is that he’s gone,” she suggested. “I mean, it’s been what, two weeks, three? I guess we’re entitled to a night off, too. We won’t tease out the details of whatever’s going on with Major Crimes in one night either way.” She glanced at Meg, expression neutral.
Meg paused. “Are you suggesting that we go out… socially?”
“Maybe just the two of us?” Abaddon confirmed. “In a social and maybe slightly overly friendly context?”
Meg smiled. “Can we start with a bar? Since we’re off the clock and all?”
Abaddon was more than happy to start with a bar; she picked one near the hotel that was a little more upscale than Meg usually liked but with a date like that Meg wasn’t complaining about anything. She ordered a gin and tonic; Abaddon’s drink was a martini with a twist as a garnish instead of olives, a little bit of a quirk that Meg hadn’t really seen before. “So,” Meg said by way of breaking the ice. “Special Prosecutor for the State of California. That sounds…”
“Lawyering isn’t exciting to anyone who isn’t a lawyer,” her date admitted. “I’m not just a special prosecutor. I’m a normal prosecutor too. But when these types of cases come up, where a local prosecutor has to recuse himself or when it’s a special case like this one, then yeah. I’m usually the one sent in.”
“So you must travel all over the state,” she prompted.
“Pretty much. I’ve even done work up near Donner Pass.” She shook her head. “Called one of my old law school professors and told him to eat his heart out. I think he thought I was kidding.” She took a sip from her drink, still looking somehow delicate. “And you’ve lived in San Francisco all your life.”
“You bet.”
“Never left?”
“I went away on vacations a few times.” She grinned. “My dad might have been - well, the devil, really, or close to it. But he was still my dad, and he raised us both to have a strong devotion to the city. I mean, we were both expected to become cops here. And we did. We wanted to be good ones.” She grimaced, thinking about Tommy. He’d been a good cop.
“Do you ever think about leaving, working somewhere else?”
I think about losing myself in your smile, she almost blurted out. Fortunately she still had enough presence of mind to say, “Nah. I mean, where would I go? After what happened with my dad? No other police force would ever take me. I’m lucky to be stuck in my cellar, waiting to collect my pension.”
“I think you’re underestimating your talent. But it could be that this is your opportunity to shine. This case is a good chance to showcase what you’re capable of. I’m seeing it, the Winchesters are seeing it.” She reached out and put a hand on Meg’s.
“The Winchesters won’t say a goddamn good thing about me,” she snorted. “My father ruined their lives.” Abaddon’s hand on hers was like a rope for a drowning woman; she could cling to it and think she was connected to something again. It was false hope, of course; Abaddon was going to go back to Sacramento eventually and Meg would be left here with nothing. But for now, they were both here and attracted.
“You’re not your father. I think Sam sees that. He seems to respect you.” She offered a shy, small smile. “He was very encouraging of you coming out here tonight.”
Here she was getting all mopey about her career and her family again when she had the most beautiful and wonderful woman in the world sitting right across from her. Stupid! “That’s true, he was. I’ll have to send him a fruit basket.” She sipped from her drink. “So. Are you from California originally?”
“Actually I’m not. I was born and raised in Normal, Illinois. It’s a nice enough place I suppose, but if there’s one thing I wasn’t it was normal.” They shared a giggle at the joke. “I’m ambitious. I’ve always been. I’ve always been a fighter - seen something that I wanted, a goal that I needed to achieve, and gone after it.”
Meg looked at Abaddon, looked into her eyes, and knew the feeling. “Does that leave you with time for hobbies?” she asked, toying with her glass.
“I watch baseball if I have time.” Abaddon smiled.
Meg let her mind think about getting to second with Abaddon. “Do you have a favorite team?”
“Right now I’m a fan of the Giants.”
They finished their drinks among more small talk. Meg learned that Abaddon also had an interest in motorcycles, a passion they shared. They discovered that a dinner is much more relaxed and pleasant without the Winchesters along, which again struck Meg as odd, but she wasn’t going to think about the brothers grim right now. After dinner, as they prepared to leave the restaurant, Abaddon asked Meg to stop back at her room. “Just for a little while, if that’s okay.”
It was more than okay, and Meg followed the redhead out of the restaurant. Before they could begin the short walk back to the hotel, though, they found themselves approached by a tall, slender, fresh-faced young blond man whose entire carriage and being just screamed, “cop.”
Abaddon put herself between Meg and the cop even as Meg reached for her gun and badge. “Hold it right there, buddy,” the lawyer demanded in a tone that would not be disobeyed. “Where exactly do you think you’re going?”
“I - I’m here to give something to Meg Masters,” the man said. “It’s from Lt. Castiel.” He kept his hands where the women could see them, although he didn’t raise them for fear of causing a scene. “I’m sorry - I’m just a school resource officer. I don’t mean to cause any trouble.”
Meg kept her gun on the young man while Abaddon approached. “Who are you?”
He slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out a flash drive. “Officer Alfie Samandriel. I mostly work in middle schools.”
Of course this kid worked in middle schools. He was too young for high school kids to take him seriously. For crying out loud, how did they let kids this young even go to the Academy? Meg lowered the gun. No one else on the street seemed to have noticed, but that didn’t mean that they wouldn’t eventually. “Did he say why he wanted you to deliver this?” Abaddon demanded.
“He said someone was watching him. I mean, it was weird, ma’am. He made me come into the men’s room with him and he passed it to me while he was pretending to… you know.” A deep blush spread out over his pale face.
“That Clarence.” Meg shook her head. “Always with the stealth. How did he know where to find me?”
“Oh, he didn’t. I followed you from headquarters.” He smiled. Maybe the kid had some cop in him after all. “Look, if he went to all that trouble to hide that thing, I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know what’s on it. It’s enough for me to know that it’s important; I believe in Lt. Castiel.” He backed away, disappearing into the night.
The women looked at each other. It wasn’t much of a detour to drop the flash drive off with Sam. Meg volunteered herself, letting Abaddon go back to her room and wait while Meg dropped in on Winchesterland. Sam was alone, having lied about the hot date to get the women to go on their own hot date. Meg relayed the story of how she’d acquired the drive, stole some of the hotel mouthwash and then went away again.
Abaddon greeted her at the door, already out of her heels. They looked at each other’s eyes for a moment and then Abaddon leaned down to kiss Meg. Meg didn’t need to pinch herself to be told that this was real, didn’t need to double check. If it was a dream she didn’t want to wake up. Abaddon’s kiss was a fantasy come to life, a vision made real. She cradled Meg’s head in her hands, taking from her mouth everything she had to offer and returning power and confidence and grace and maybe a little minty toothpaste flavor.
They parted, but only for breath before Meg reached out and brought them together again. A tilt of her head and a slip of the tongue deepened the kiss, eliciting a low groan from the fiery prosecutor. Still locked into the kiss, Abaddon guided the pair to a chair, sitting down and pulling Meg down on top of her.
Meg yielded, straddling her partner much to her partner’s delight. She traced the outline of Abaddon’s jawline with a feather-light touch before going over it again with her lips and the tiniest, most gentle touches of her teeth. Abaddon’s impeccably-manicured hands gripped her shoulders as she hissed with pleasure.
She let Abaddon help her remove her suit jacket; after all, there was no point in getting the thing all wrinkled, and it meant that those perfect hands would be one layer closer to being where she wanted them - on her bare skin, anywhere on her bare skin. She could already feel their heat through the thin cotton of her blouse; it was enough to have her feeling warmer already.
But it was not enough for Abaddon, who was mouthing along her neck. She wanted to bite, she wanted to bite so badly but they had to go to work and she couldn’t. Meg could practically feel her holding back. “These buttons,” she growled out as she fussed with Meg’s blouse, “are a pain.”
“Close enough,” Meg decided, once enough buttons had come undone to pull the blouse over her head. It was bad for the blouse or so she’d been told, she’d lose buttons that way eventually, but she didn’t care. Right now she had Abaddon looking at her body, just her in a lacy bra and Abaddon’s hungry blue eyes on her.
Her own hands hadn’t been idle; Abaddon’s blue blouse hung open before her to reveal her own beautiful skin. Meg couldn’t help but want to touch it, taste it. She caressed Abaddon’s face with her hand again, this time letting the hand travel down lower, enjoying the feel of that smooth, hot flesh under her hand. Their lips met again, but only briefly. Abaddon moved her head to bring her lips further down, nuzzling Meg’s neck and nibbling along her clavicle. One hand passed along Meg’s left breast, drawing out a gasp from her.
Naturally, that was when both phones rang at once. Meg inched back slightly, groaning in an entirely different manner. “We could always just ignore them,” she suggested.
“Not if they’re both going off,” Abaddon sighed. “Might as well see what the boys want.”
Sam was the one calling Meg. “This had better be important,” she told him.
“The gun found on William Liu was used at another murder,” he told her. “Dean’s got his FBI buddy locking down the evidence so their techs can grab the gun for us, but we need to get down there and deal with this mess.”
From the look on Abaddon’s face, she was getting a similar message. “Fine,” Meg sighed. “We’ll be down in front as soon as I can find my shirt.”
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