UPDATE: For those who are totally lost, I am reposting this story with combined the chapters so they all are closer to the same length. The first three reposted chapters will contain all of the same content as chapters one through five, it's just combined!
So this is titled Chapter One, but is what used to be Chapters one AND two. Chapter four will be all new content, and it's coming soon!
Disclaimer: I own nothing
June 2019
Cassie Lang did not like Draco Malfoy as a person.
He was just…so rude. Really, she couldn't stand him for more than an hour.
The other guys that she'd found, the ones with "Similar experiences"? They were better.
But not by much.
Cassie understood. What they'd all been through? It changed a person, brought out the worst in you.
Seriously though. All of them, the guy who claimed he'd lived in purgatory for a while? The twins who kept saying their grandpa was the GOD of the underworld?
And the wizard?
Nutjobs – all of them.
Of course, Cassie's own father could become the size of an ant at will, and her stepmom? She'd get small too…but she also had wings.
Which, didn't make it any less crazy.
So…Cassie supposed, this was just her life now. Occasionally meeting with four crazies who understood her crazy a little bit more than the general population would, just to drink.
Just to feel slightly less crazy, if only for a few hours a month.
And then SHE showed up, wearing jeans with holes in them, a navy canvas jacket, and with a bright red baseball cap covering long dark hair.
"You guys wanna catch a monster?" She'd asked, eyes bright.
Draco had set his beer on the table and was dragging his coat on in seconds.
The others shrugged and pulled out money to settle their tabs.
SHE had turned a look Cassie's way. "You in, Lang?" She'd asked briskly.
And what else could Cassie do?
She'd nodded dumbly and stood from the table.
The declared deceased JJ Barnes stood there, eyes shadowed and expression dark, and slapped Cassie's back.
"Good Girl," She said dryly.
And Cassie, who never thought she'd see this woman again, followed her out the door.
That's how, Cassie would tell her family later, sheepishly, Cassie became a monster hunter.
January 18th, 2020
"I haven't seen you in a while, Max. Is everything alright?"
"Me?" Max Watson laughed, leaning back against the blue couch he reclined on. "Of the eight of us, I think I'm the most well-adjusted of us all – and I have to see a therapist."
"Hey." The brunette woman in the chair smiled teasingly. "Maybe you're the most well-adjusted BECAUSE you see a therapist, and a good one, if I do say so myself."
Max shook his head, smiling. "My therapist is a narcissist."
"But a funny narcissist." The woman chuckled. "I'm sorry. We're not here to talk about me. And you're apparently doing well?"
"I'm good," Max admitted easily. "My best friend disappeared three years ago, we celebrated her funeral two years ago, and half of us fled the country in order to get over the grief. Me? I stayed, I joined the academy, I became a cop. I moved on."
"And your friends?" Max's therapist pushed. "They didn't move on?"
"Well." Max made a face. "They did move: Lei and Marco to California, Xan to Washington, Rhi to London, Ben to Korea, Aaron to Australia. Then there's Stephen, who's special forces somewhere with the army. So moved? Definitely. But moved on?" He grunted. "I dunno about that."
"All of them have been wildly successful." The woman pointed out. "Pilot, dancer, actor, doctor. Lawyer, football star, cop," the therapist winked.
"They're bubbling." Max argued. "They're doing their best not to talk about the grief, but it's still there. It's simmering, bubbling up, and if nothing antagonizes it, they'll be fine."
"Yet you're worried." The therapist guessed. "What could possibly push all eight of your friends over the edge? All at the same time?"
"You're right." Max sighed heavily. "You're right. I'm worrying over nothing…I just." Max made a face. "I have a bad feeling about this."
"Alright." The therapist shook her head. "I can't help you with that. Only time will tell. Let's talk about something else: how is work?"
Max felt a smile creep onto his face. "I ah, got a promotion, actually."
"Does this have anything to do with the monster epidemic?" The woman poked the newspaper on the coffee table, and Max's smile widened. "It does, as it so happens." He puffed up his chest. "New York's finest have been hand selected to form a new division, created specifically to deal with these monstrous crimes."
"Punny." The woman rolled her eyes. "The monsters have only been cropping up for the last, what? Six months? And they're just now putting a task force together to fight them?"
"Your government dollars at work." Max teased. He shot a look at the clock then stood, reaching for his hat. "But don't worry miss," his voice deepened. "I've been specifically chosen to fight back against this horrendous epidemic."
"Oh?" The woman smirked. "So your partner's dad being the police commissioner had nothing to do with it?"
Max grimaced. "It might've had something to do with it," he admitted. "But I'm not picky!" He grinned. "It's monster time!"
"Wait." The woman raised her pen when it looked like Max was ready to leave. "So – you're getting ready to start fighting monsters, alien like creatures that have been randomly popping up out of the blue for the last six months, all over the world, and you're choosing to spend all you're time worrying about the friends who you haven't seen in years, the ones, I might add, who SEEM to be doing just fine?"
"I have my priorities," Max said loftily. "Besides which, everyone's getting together in a few days. See ya!"
Max made a run for the door, but the woman threw her pen, and Max paused.
"You're kidding me," She said disbelievingly. "Your friends from high school, plus their parents?"
Max turned, shrugging lightly. "They're all meeting up? At the same place?"
Max nodded and moved back towards the couch.
"For the first time since the funeral?" Max didn't say anything, but he really didn't have to.
"Wow, Max." She shook her head. "This is serious."
"It's for Xander's last college game." He explained quickly. "We're all going in support, and yeah, everyone will be there for the first time since the funeral, which I guess makes it a make deal, but," Max grinned. "I can handle it."
"Says the guy who started bawling when you told a little kid to wear a helmet and they sassed you." The therapist crossed her arms.
"Hey!" Max pointed. "That kid was mean. This situation is not like that one at all, anyways."
"How?" She asked disbelievingly
"Because," Max stood again, and put on his hat with a wink. "I'm bringing backup."
Max Watson knew that seeing all his high school friends again was going to be rough.
Rough didn't even begin to cover it, really.
But it was going to be fine.
Because Max Watson had a secret weapon.
And that Secret weapons name was Officer Jamie Reagan.
Now, all Max had to do was get his partner to agree to take two days off with him to fly down to Washington state for a football game.
The only problem?
Well, there were three problems.
One, Jamie didn't take a day off. EVER.
Two, Jamie didn't follow football. He didn't even like football.
And Three? Jamie's childhood superhero, The Winter Soldier, was going to be there.
Which, any other normal person would give their left arm to meet their childhood favorite.
But Jamie? Well, Jamie probably wouldn't be able to handle it.
He'd have to, though, because Max had to go to this thing, and if Max had to go? Well, damn it, Max wasn't going without his partner.
Because Max had been honest with his therapist.
He had a really bad feeling.
"Was it good for you?"
Max paused in buckling his seat belt to shoot the driver a nasty look. The glare lasted only for a moment before Max let loose a chuckle, letting the click of the seatbelt echo in the car alongside his laughter. "Well," He admitted after a moment, eyeing the easy way in which his partner handled the police car, despite the gauze wrapped around one hand, scratched knuckles peeking out of the top of the wrap. "I do always leave satisfied." Max couldn't help but wiggle his eyebrows, finally glancing up to his partners face.
Matching scratches on the right cheekbone, making the blonde-haired blue-eyed broad-shouldered man in the cop uniform look even more dashing.
As if he'd needed help in that regard, Max snorted internally. "And I give as good as a I get," he added after a moment.
"Oh?" Blue eyes narrowed and the side of his mouth quirked into a half smile. "That's not what your last girlfriend said."
It was adorable, Max admitted to himself. "That girl." Max thought dreamily back to the super hot, crazy red-head he'd been dating a few months ago. "She had more issues than vogue."
"And what sounded like a life-time subscription to them," Max's partner snickered, and Max poked him in the shoulder.
"You shut your mouth, Reagan," He warned, "Or I'll tell your dad on you."
Reagan rolled his eyes, used to that particular threat. "Go ahead," He said glibly. "We'll be seeing him in less than 10."
"Yeah, for a meeting," Max crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat, losing himself to the friendly camaraderie that he had with his partner.
Cop partners naturally became close, simply due to the job. But they didn't have to become friends.
Jamie Reagan was the first partner Max had been assigned, once he'd finished at the Academy. That first year, what with the disappearances, and then the funeral? Max hadn't been too keen on making friends.
Why would he? He already had friends.
And his best friend…well.
Finally, Max's captain forced him into therapy, and Max realized that what he was doing wasn't healthy.
So he moved on. He got his head in the game: and he realized his partner was not only a good cop, but a great friend, and the best part?
Max didn't have to share Reagan with anyone.
Also, dinners at the Reagan household was hilarious.
So, three years into his partnership and two into his friendship, what Max and Jamie had was pretty solid: both in the field and out.
"I can't believe we're on monster patrol."
"The advanced response special task force," Jamie corrected lightly, though he knew Max would disregard him.
Max grinned and ignored him. "We're gonna fight monsters, Reagan!"
"Says the guy who cried when a four-year-old yelled at him," Jamie teased.
"Says the guy who can't handle a raccoon." Max looked pointedly at Jamie's busted hand, and the fair-skinned man flushed.
"The thing was huge," He argued, smiling. "Infused with super strength, I just know it."
Max snickered. "Why even take on that beast anyway?" He asked, curious. "That thing's been living in your front yard since before you moved into the place. Why uproot it now?"
And Jamie flushed again. Max's eyes narrowed.
Because one: Jamie was his best friend. So Max could tell his friends blushes apart. The previous one? An embarrassed blush. This one?
It was most definitely a girl blush, caused only by a girl Jamie fancied.
"You did this for a girl." Max grinned, poking his friend, who simply flushed harder. "You took on the scariest thing in existence,"
"We're literally about to start hunting monsters," Jamie interrupted hotly, but Max continued as if his friend hadn't spoken,
"Mr. Bubbles the rabid raccoon is the scariest thing in the world, monsters INCLUDED," Max argued. "And you went up against him FOR A GIRL." Max shook his head. "She must be something special.
And yeah. Maybe there was a little hurt that accompanied Max's last statement.
Because hello? Jamie was Max's BEST FRIEND. So Max would know if Jamie were seeing anyone. Which he wasn't. Unless…
"Wait." Max turned halfway in his seat to glare at Jamie.
Jamie's hands clenched on the wheel, and he focused on the street ahead. He focused a little TOO hard, especially seeing as they were stopped at a red light.
"This is about your robber."
"She's not a robber." Jamie corrected automatically. "She hasn't stolen anything."
"Your B and E chick, then," Max tried impatiently.
"She hasn't broken anything either," He defended.
"Yeah, she just unlawfully enters your apartment to pet the cat and use your Netflix."
"See?" Jamie said weakly. "She's harmless."
"She's dangerous." Max huffed. "You went up against Mr. BUBBLES," He stressed, "for this chick. You like her."
"What?" Jamie's eyes widened dramatically. "I don't even know her, Watson," He pressed a little too hard on the gas, and they jerked forward.
"Which is why she's so dangerous!" Max threw his hands up. "She probably bat her eyes and asked you nicely to get rid of Mr. Bubbles and,"
"She didn't ask me," Jamie interrupted slowly, and Max's mouth dropped open in shock.
"She," Jamie winced and pulled into their station's parking lot. "She just mentioned that she didn't like the thing."
"Nobody likes Mr. Bubbles." Max hissed through his teeth. He glared at his partner, watching as the man put the car into park and then shut off the engine.
That's when it hit Max.
"You're a junkie." He announced. Jamie shot his friend a look and Max shrugged. "You crave danger, always have." He shook his head slowly and then climbed out of the car. After a moment, Jamie followed suit. Once the two were walking side by side, towards the station's front doors, Max continued. "You became a cop because you craved danger, you're in love with the woman breaking into your house,"
"Love," Jamie sputtered, but Max ignored him,
"And you've joined monster patrol because you just can't get enough." Max patted Jamie's shoulder. "Don't worry friend, I understand. And it will be okay."
The two slid through the front doors and took a left in the foyer, walking towards the conference room, where a group of thirty other officers and detectives mingled. The two men found a seat near the front.
Jamie took a moment to look at Max, a little incredulously. Then he huffed.
"It will be okay?" He repeated slowly. "What makes you think so?"
Max waved a hand at the room, smirking when the Police Commissioner strode in and made for the podium at the front of the room.
"Because soon enough we'll be fighting monsters every day." He explained, as if the answer was simple. "Then you won't have this strange infatuation with a criminal any longer." Max settled back in his seat, satisfied.
The commissioner cleared his throat and the room fell silent, and Jamie took a few more seconds to stare at his partner.
Because in Max's mind, Jamie would get caught up in the job and the beautiful woman who'd been breaking into his apartment for months would quickly be forgotten.
It wasn't such a crazy thought. For as long as Max had known Jamie, this had been his pattern.
The work always came first.
But this woman?
She wasn't so easily forgettable.
"Thank you all, first, for agreeing to take part of such a dangerous division. I understand that the cases you will be dealing with are still a mystery, that a lot of your training will take place on the job, and that the danger you will face can't compare to anything you've faced before."
Commissioner Reagan looked around the room, his eyes catching, only for a moment, on his son's.
"As all of you are aware, the attacks began six months ago, right here, in New York City, a slew of – unidentified beings attacked and destroyed nearly three blocks. We were woefully unprepared for the invasion. Thanks to an unnamed source, the attack was dealt with before any more damage occurred. Had this individual not been prepared, we would have lost much more than three blocks."
The commissioner spoke frankly, and though none of this was a surprise to those seated around the room, they listened attentively.
"Since the first attack, the united states have suffered more such incidents, averaging at least four every thirty days. New York has been most predominantly hit. Along with New York, San Francisco, Colorado, and London have been target multiple times. As a species, The U.S., along with London, Australia, and a few other countries, have decided to form a team designated to assessing, identifying, and containing these attacks. You are that team."
"Because the Avengers were busy, right?" A tall blonde woman called, out, and a few people around her snickered.
The commissioner shrugged. "They're retired." He said vaguely.
"You mean they said no." The same woman corrected.
"In a nutshell." The commissioner admitted freely.
"Which means we're it." A man in the back row stood, eyes squinted. "What good are we going to do?"
The commissioner looked at his son for a moment. Jamie stared back, shrugging slightly.
"We do have a secret weapon," He admitted, after he'd been given the go-ahead. "An individual whose come up against creatures like this before."
The entire room leaned forward. The attacks, everyone knew about. The team they were joining? That was global news. But a secret weapon? That was new.
"The Ally?" the back row man said.
And murmurs filled the room.
"The Ally," the blonde woman from before raised an eyebrow. "The ghost?"
"The Ally is a name given by the press," The commissioners press liaison, a broad man with close cropped blond hair and wide eyes stepped forward. "We can neither confirm nor deny that the Ally is our source,"
"Not legally, anyway," the commissioner muttered, pushing his press liaison out of the way. "But if I could confirm," he paused meaningfully, "or deny, what would your thoughts be on The Ally as a consultant?" He stared down the woman, who didn't seem fazed, simply tilting her head as she thought.
"I think that with The Ally on our side," She began slowly, "then our chances of surviving this unit for more than three days just went up…dramatically." She sat back down and nodded.
"We're talking about the person who's been single-handedly taking out these things right?" Max clarified with a raised hand. "Although more recently they've been inviting friends and making it a party."
"That's who we're taking about," The commissioner nodded.
"Why don't they just join us outright?" Someone asked.
The commissioner was silent for a moment. "They were invited," he finally said. He didn't seem inclined to say anything more, and the silence stretched on, until Max raised a hand.
"And?" He pressed.
"They said no." The commissioner said frankly.
"So you asked the Avengers," Max rolled his eyes, because of course they'd say no, "and they turned you down, and you asked the Ally, and they said no." He crossed his arms. "Let me guess. They said it's me, not you."
"The Avengers were a little more eloquent." The commissioner shook his head. "The Ally told our mediator to shove it."
"Wow." Max grinned. "I like them already."
"So."
"So."
Max and Jamie undressed in the locker room, hours later.
"Our last shift as officers is over." Max patted his uniform with a small sigh. "Two days off, then back at it." He shot a look at Jamie. "But as specialists."
Max leaned against his locker, wearing a white tshirt and bright red boxers. "Whatever are you going to do with your free time?"
"Home." Jamie answered quickly. "Sleep."
"Spend one last fateful night with your lady?" Max teased.
Jamie pointedly avoided eye contact, and Max frowned. "No." He pointed at his friend. "No more. I'm cutting you off cold turkey." He bounced on the balls of his feet. "You're going out of town with me tomorrow."
"No." Jamie shook his head quickly, thinking of his cat, of the chores he had to do tomorrow…of her. "I've got plans."
"They're cancelled." Max grinned. "You're waking up early tomorrow and hopping on a plane with me, west coast bound!"
"Why would I do that?" Jamie pulled on his jeans, eyebrows furrowed.
"A friend of mine is playing the college national championships." Jamie shot Max a confused look, and Max rolled his eyes. "Football, Reagan. I have an extra ticket, and you're coming."
"No I'm not," Jamie shook his head.
"Yes you are." Max beamed. "I'll pick you up tomorrow at 7am sharp." He patted Jamie's shoulder. "See you then!"
"I'm not going!" Jamie called after Max, who darted out of the locker room, still wearing only boxers.
But Max didn't bother to reply and Jamie huffed and pulled his jacket on.
He was more than ready to head home.
When Jamie got home, his apartment was already occupied.
The TV was the only source of light in the apartment, muted and stuck on the news.
The second occupant of the apartment was settled on the couch in front of the TV, a worn afghan covering their lap.
The TV illuminated the gray Harvard tee the individual wore, and Jamie couldn't help but smile a little disbelievingly.
"You're wearing my shirt?"
"Well." The woman on his couch didn't look up at him. "Mine got blood on it."
A spike of alarm shot down Jamie's spine, but he aimed to keep his voice light. "Your blood?"
"Unlikely." The firm confidence in the low voice had Jamie's shoulders relaxing. "But possible." The woman added after a moment. "The beastie today was vicious."
"There was an attack today?" Jamie moved slowly to his favorite armchair, cautious of not moving too quickly around the woman on his couch. "I haven't heard anything."
"Overseas." The woman tilted her head, and Jamie was finally angled so that he could see her eyes.
She blinked slowly, and impossibly long lashes swept across high cheekbones. "You wouldn't have heard of it yet." She sighed, a hint of pain in the noise. "I hope you're team gets up and running soon." She flipped the blanket off of her lap, and two long gashes across one thigh immediately caught his gaze. "I'm too damn old for this, she muttered, poking at the wound.
Jamie's fingers twitched, but he stayed seated. "We'd be up and running a lot faster if we had an someone experienced join the ranks," he said, eyebrow raised, and she huffed.
"For the sixty-eighth time," she drawled, voice tinged with amusement. "No, Reagan. I'll tell you what I know, but I'm no team player." She stood, pressing a finger down the length of one of her gashes. She didn't even flinch. "And I'm certainly no leader."
"I think your followers would disagree," Jamie said teasingly.
She rolled her eyes. "Shut it Reagan." She made towards the door, and Jamie opened his mouth.
He wasn't ready for her to leave. "Speaking of advice," she called over her shoulder, shooting a look his way. "I'd take up your little partner on his extra ticket."
It took Jamie a second to follow. "You mean Max? His tickets to that game tomorrow?" He tilted his head. "Why?"
"Washington State." The illusive woman who'd been breaking into Jamie's apartment for the last six months chuckled. "It just kind of feels like the place to be tomorrow." She caught Jamie's gaze, and Jamie froze.
His visitor rarely made sense when she spoke, always talking in riddles, always condescending, always preferring to insult Jamie than make sense, and she almost never made direct eye contact.
So when her gaze caught his, Jamie froze, too distracted by the shades of brown surrounding her pupils: the outer deep chestnut ring, the lighter center, almost a hazel with the tiniest flecks of green.
"Your leg." He said stupidly. "It needs fixed."
"Bruiser will fix me up," She confirmed, still holding his gaze. "He always does."
Jamie vaguely remembered the blonde thin british man who'd been with her when he'd come home from work a few months ago.
Inwardly he bristled. But he simply smiled tightly and nodded.
"I guess I'll see you when I get back?" He furrowed his eyebrows, and she smiled, a quirk of her lips that only lifted one side of her mouth.
"Sure." She said vaguely. "See you around, Reagan."
And she was gone.
Jamie sighed, vibrating slightly.
Maybe there was a bit of an adrenaline rush that came along with his nightly visitor, he admitted freely to himself.
But there was more to it than that.
Jamie huffed and argued to himself the whole time he packed an overnight bag.
Apparently, he was going away for the weekend.
Chapter one! I think it's set everything up very nicely - chapter two is next!
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~CLC~
