It's all Jim, I'm just borrowing his action figures

I sit with my feet up on my desk flinging pencils into the ceiling tiles above my desk. Makes me feel that I am back in middle school. My new office is only so-so; it is hard to borrow money from the bank when you put "Wizard" under occupation. The heat outside is oppressive and I am thrilled that this office building has a kick ass central air conditioning unit.

It had been a pretty good week, a special effects DP had taken me to a pretty good restaurant to see if they could save some on the film budget by having real magic take the place of CGI. The guy was a real flake, I had met him at one of the occult book stores that seem to pop up like mushrooms, he was there getting his crystals charged and started chatting me up to see if I was interested in a role or something.

The lunch meeting could of gone better, after I explained to him the while I can do magic, the use of it would fry out most of his equipment making my skills as practical as I always think they are. But hey, I got a free lunch out of the deal.

I also turned down a creep that wanted me to follow his wife and if she was cheating on him, make her go away in a way that couldn't be tracked. I may be a warlock but even I have some standards. I sigh and tell him "My standard rate is $50 an hour, $200 for the day plus expenses" I hand him one of my business cards, take down his and hers' information, accept a $1,000 check as a retainer and called the police.

An officer came by later that afternoon, he was a little surprised at the sign on the door. "So, let me get this straight, this guy" He glances down at his note-pad "John, offered you a check and wanted you to track down his wife and kill her? How did he expect you do to that?" I looked up at him and spread my hands "I am a Wizard, I am subtle and quick to anger" I said with a sardonic smile "haven't you ever read those books?" He chuckles and took the check, putting it in a sealed envelope. "God, this guy is slow, who writes a personal check to put a hit on his wife?" He looks at me incredulously. I chuckle and told him that I was offended by both the amount offered and the manner it was offered.

He lets me know that they will be in touch with me and I figure that it might be a good time to do some networking and let him know that I could help and that if he gives me five minutes, I can tell him where the guy is right now. The officer smiles into his notepad and snorts, "That would be a pretty good parlor trick, but I have seen David Blaine on T.V too often to buy that tale." I chew my lower lip in frustration, great another skeptic! "Fair enough, let me give you my card, if you ever run out of leads, give me a call." I forced a smile onto my face and hand him one of my cards.

Well, that was a waste of both money and time, I wish I could just list myself as a psychic and be done with it. But that is what I am, a real live Wizard, I can do the impossible given enough time and resources. I am even in the yellow pages, under wizards. I am the only on in the book listed I come right between wireless and wood finishing.

But anyways, my listing has been up for a month, most find me on the internet, can't go there for obvious reasons but I am told I have a webpage and everything. I like to keep my office neat. I have some ferns and some book cases along the wall.

As I get the 5th pencil to stick, the clock above my head goes off with a little Cuckoo cuckoo. That clock doesn't tell the time but, other than that it is very handy. What that Cuckoo tells me is that there is another wizard in the building. Why that is a concern is that I am a wanted criminal. We all have to of been something before, I feel that is a bit of a cliché, "Private investigator with a shady past"

I reach into my top desk drawer and put on a bracelet I prepared for such an emergency as this. The moment it snaps onto my wrist, I get the feeling that I am wearing a too tight whole body stocking and have cotton shoved up my nose and in my ears. My vision gets a little fuzzy and my tongue itches a bit.

I take a look around the office for anything suspicious and find nothing that could raise any eye-brows.

There is a knock on my office door and I yell for them to come in as the door is open. I slide open the top right-hand drawer and check to see of my wand is there.

I hope that this is just a client or a local hedge mage to see of I am for real. My office door swings open and see that my hopes were in vain. A tall figure in the grey cloak of the Wardens of the White Council walks in. The White council is an organization of the most powerful wizards on the world. And if they knew who I was and what I did, they would chop my head off.

I recognize the clock because my first master, Justin wore one, they are the cops of the wizarding world, and Justin was a very dirty cop.

I am surprised that he is wearing the grey cloak in L.A.; it has to be better than 100 degrees out and those things look like wool.

The Warden is about 5'10 Latino-handsome, think Enrique Iglesias with a touch of Benjamin Brant and you would be close. He has an intricately carved staff and a poster tube over his shoulder. He is wearing his "war face" but he doesn't have the years for it to set in.

"Are you Elaine Mallory, Wizard?" He said looking around my office. "Yes, I am how can I help you today?" I say without getting up from my desk.

I'm tense and scared, but I must not let it show. "I heard that you opened up a few weeks ago and wanted to see how you are settling in, I'm Warden Ramirez" He approaches the desk and reaches out his hand to shake mine with a smile on his face. This is the first test to see if this bracelet does its job; the skin to skin touch of a fellow wizard is strong and distinctive. I extend my own hand and we shake, I feel a tingle like an electronic shock and avoid his attempts to catch my eye but watch his face for any sign of surprise or suspicion. Finding neither, I smile and look at his nose and say "you can call me Elle."

He smiles back, showing a wealth of white teeth "Carlos, nice to meet you." I suppress the look of surprise on my face; he has given both his first and last name to me now. A wizards True Name has power, and he shows a surprising amount of trust. It is a courtesy that I am ill inclined to return.

"I am here as the local Warden for the White Council, I assume that you have heard of us?" I frown slightly and look down like I am trying to remember what I have heard of them. "Yes, my mentor mentioned the Council to me a few times but, I never met anyone on it" He sits down on the chair in front of my desk and asks "And what have you heard about us?"

I figure a little flattery never hurts and I say "Well I have heard that only the most powerful practitioners of the art in the world are on it and the Wardens protect us from all of the dark things that go bump in the night." I can tell that it hit its mark because I swear to God; the boy blushed a little bit.

"So, who did you apprentice under? Grammar Beckett, she is based in Oklahoma City as an herbalist and medicine woman, I told him.

And what can you do? Well I am good at finding things and people and I can move some things too. He asks to see me does that? I focus my power through the binding and say "Notus" and a pencil on my desk rolls towards him.

He leans back in his chair and smiles a bit, I can tell that I have passed his test and he thinks I am a minor power with little useful skills.

"You know that some would frown upon you putting a listing in the Yellow Pages advertising yourself as a wizard, as you are not technically one." He reaches into his cloak and hands me some pamphlets. The one on top reads "I am magic! And so can you!" I turn it over and it is from "Burned Hand Teaches Best Press" It seems that the wizarding world it catching up, I see a familiar phone number lined out where it say where to call and a local number is written in by hand. I can tell that it is one of Harry's pamphlets that he had in his office.

Carlos stands up and says "call the number on the back if you have any questions, or, you know, if you want to umm, see me again" He again looks down looking like a boy years younger that his actual age.

I half smile and say "what ever do you mean?" He glances up and says, "I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me and my family this week-end. My grand-mother would like to meet you and then we can maybe go to a movie and have some sodas" I chuckle; he has a boyish charm that begs to be taken advantage of. "I am flattered Carlos, but my social calendar is full" He looks equal parts disappointed and relieved. "Well than, good day to you Miss Mallory."