Greetings. My brain spat out some more words. It should be noted that this fic is technically a crossover (Vampire the Masquerade/Vampire the Requiem/Vampire the Masquerade Bloodlines), but I did attempt to explain the foreign concepts. If anything comes off as not clear enough, let me know, and I will add further detail. I also apologize if anything is funky with the formatting as I am uploading from mobile - the unnecessary capitalization is one of these issues. This is also hosted on AO3.

Notes per reviews:

-Kine is a somewhat archaic and derogatory term used by the Kindred to refer to mortals. The phrase "Kindred and Kine" is used to refer to all the people of the world. (FineChyna)

-Jacoby is pronounced jah-CO-bee. (ReadALLtheBooks)

If I glance over any terminology, try googling "(term) vtm" or searching it on the White Wolf or Vampire the Masquerade Bloodlines wikias.

I own nothing you recognize.

The rain pelts furiously against the roof of the building, so shockingly thunderous that I can hear it whipping about even on the fourth floor. I can't help but feel nervous - this was a job interview and I was utterly unprepared, dressed in the only clothes I owned and without anything resembling a resumé. I'm hoping to get hired as a formal assistant to a man named Wolf, but I have a feeling I don't remotely have a chance. I've hardly lived here that long and the woman that had showed me in had informed me that he was rather reluctant toward the idea.

I shift my weight and the chair I'm seated in protests loudly. The office is in somewhat of shambles - an overflowing ashtray, a seldom used coffee pot, papers scattered over the desk. The wastebin is overflowing with empty soft packs of Huff 'n' Puffs. What I would do to have one and calm my nerves.

The door swings open and lightly smacks the wall and I jolt upward in my seat. A worn, grizzled man drops himself into the office chair opposite me and regards me with a look of mild displeasure. For a fraction of a second he seems intrigued, but then he goes back to his resting bitch face syndrome.

"So," he begins, hitting another soft pack on the back of his wrist and lighting up a smoke. I swallow, aware of the click of my throat, and wait for him to continue. "You're Jacoby, then? Is that your first name or your last?"

"I'd prefer it to be my only name, sir," I venture, twisting my hands in my lap. His blank stare prompts me to revise my answer. "I'm Jacoby Corpore, sir."

Wolf slides the pack and a Zippo across the desk and I partake gratefully. As I light up, he scratches the stubble on his chin. He's no doubt wondering how a ragamuffin like me found their way into his office for an interview and not help. "So, why do you want to be my assistant?"

Straight to the point, I see. "I need money," I reply bluntly with a shrug. Like he's going to be very formal in this process.

"Valid. Do you have any experience in this sort of work?"

"I was an errandgirl in Santa Monica," I offer.

"Hmm? What did you do?"

"Anything, and everything. Investigation, mainly."

"Why did you quit?"

I fidget a bit. "Er - my former employer, he, uh, died." Exploded. Whatever.

"I'm sorry. Is there anyone else I can contact as reference?"

"Well, there's a few. I'd have to get their contact info though." Totally professional.

Wolf leans across the desk and drops his voice. "You're not a Fable. You're not a human, either." I blink at him, wide-eyed. "Why are you here?"

I think about it for a few moments. His scent is peculiar and I can't place it. "Well, you're not Kindred. You're not Kine, either. You've found a niche, and a haven. I'm simply trying to do the same. Discretion is not a problem on my part, sir."

He leans back and nods slowly. "I understand. I won't ask what you are, so long as you don't cause any problems." He lights up another cigarette as I stub mine out. "I'm not thrilled with having to hire an assistant, but it will keep others off my back. We'll pass on the paperwork and I'll give you a trial period. When can you start?"

I feel giddy. "Whenever, really. I could even start right now, if you like."

Wolf knocks the cherry out of his cigarette and places it on the desk for later. Then he beckons to me. "Come on." We leave the office and he leads me down the hall, past a long line of people standing at some door that we pass through. The same woman that took me to his office is behind an impressive desk and she stands when we walk in.

"So, she's the one?" She asks, and regards me with something like relief.

"She's the only one that showed up, Snow, you know that," he replies, tucking his hands into his pockets. She glares at him, perhaps not wanting my self confidence ruined because I was picked by convenience rather than qualification. It really doesn't matter to me.

"Well, Miss - Jacoby, is it? - I'm Snow White, the deputy mayor for the forseeable future." She holds out a carefully manicured hand and I shake it.

"Nice to meet you," I offer, inclining my head in greeting. She then proceeds as if I'm not in the room.

"When will she be starting?"

"Now," Wolf shrugs.

"Now? You're not going to train her or anything?"

"She doesn't need training."

White looks at me in my state of disarray, as if to say yeah, right. "Does she know?" She asks pointedly.

"She understands."

"But she doesn't know."

"I know as much as I need to. I'm not stupid," I interject, commandeering the conversation. White regards me for a few moments, trying to decide if she can trust me or not. "Do you want collateral?" I offer, rocking back on my heels as she studies me. She looks to Wolf, whose expression says that this conversation has gone on to long.

"She's neither here nor there. She's not a Fable, but she's not a Mundy. She came here to hide, same as any of us," Wolf states with an air of finality.

"Fine. But she's your responsibility, Bigby," White says firmly. Wolf rolls his eyes skyward and beckons me out with him. We return to his office and he gestures at the guest chair.

"Unfortunately, you came in the aftermath of excitement, so there's not particularly anything to do at the moment. Hopefully things will be quiet for a while." He picks up the unfinished cigarette and relights it. "Have you been around town?"

I shrug. "Not particularly."

"Then I'll show you around. Are you living here?" I shake my head and rattle off the name of a run down apartment that even a rat probably wouldn't look twice at. "Ouch."

"It doesn't matter to me. I'm not a creature of comfort."

"Good to know," he comments as he shuffles papers around on his desk. "Well, no use sitting around. Come on." Wolf stands and we walk outside to begin my tour.