Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, and I also feel like I should say something about not having any claim to Jim Butcher's The Dresden Files series, which this work was heavily inspired by.
Santana checked the clock on the dash of her car as she drove down the nearly deserted back street to her destination. Around her she could see the kinds of lowlifes and layabouts that usually populated this area after the sun goes down. One corner she drove past featured a bored looking Asian girl dressed in the provocative trappings of a prostitute. And not even a very good-looking one at that.
It was nearly half an hour after she'd promised to meet her man on the street, who'd been out looking for clues while she and the fairy tailed the wizard's sister. She hadn't wanted to do it, but Kurt insisted that they both keep tabs on the girl, just in case whoever had caused Pierce's disappearance decided to go for his family, or to draw him out if they didn't already have him.
The girl hadn't exactly seemed hugely receptive to the idea of her brother being a missing, possibly endangered wizard, but neither had she experienced the freak-out that Santana had anticipated. It had almost been like she hadn't even heard anything that turned her entire perception of the world on its head.
That got Santana to thinking, though really it shouldn't have. Perhaps this girl wasn't quite as clueless as Kurt seemed to think. Maybe she was in on Sam's disappearance, maybe she'd just been waiting for a chance to get Santana to let her in her apartment…
Whoa, down paranoia girl, the succubus thought to herself, turning onto a side street even narrower than the last. The girl was most likely exactly what she said she was, and as clueless as she appeared. She was probably just worried about the wizard, though she'd never admit it. Most likely not even to herself.
Sam had specifically told her, the very first time they'd met and he'd deduced what she was, that there was no way he was letting her get her life-draining paws on him. And while her feelings for the wizard had most assuredly moved from hunger to… something a trifle more sentimental in nature, she was fairly certain his initial warning hadn't lost its gravity. Besides, what good was a relationship where you could barely kiss your boyfriend without concentrating hard on keeping his life energy where it was supposed to be?
No, she thought as she slowed the car to a stop, put it in park, and twisted the key out of ignition position, It's better to be a friend than a mourner. It was truly a lonely life for a succubus. Unless you could find another of your kind to love, but she'd sworn off that sort of thing after what had happened with Sebastian. Nope, meaningless sexual encounters/feedings and a good group of friends were all the relationships one Santana Lopez could handle.
She grabbed the bag in the passenger's seat, got out of the car, and walked a few paces down the alley she'd stopped near. It was completely deserted, which was odd. She was sure she'd told her street man to meet her in this alley, and even though she was nearly twenty minutes late for the meeting they'd set up when she'd hired him, she still expected more courtesy from him than to wander off. She would have called to inform him of her tardiness, but given how he traveled, it wouldn't even matter if she did have his number.
She tugged absentmindedly at the hem of the dark blue, billowy blouse she'd changed into before leaving the garage. Where could that man be…?
Without warning there was a loud growl from behind her, coming in at about head height. Good God, she thought, exasperated, Of all the times to be pulling macho bullshit like this! Absentmindedly, and taking great care to look absentminded about it, she grabbed the furry snout of what she assumed was a werewolf in full-on lupine mode and flung it away like yesterday's trash.
The beast let out something between a whimper and a howl of rage. It landed with a crash somewhere in the shadows of the alley's end. Seconds later there was a click-clack of claws on concrete, and a pair of fierce looking yellow eyes gazed at her from the darkness. A low growl came from the shadows, clearly a threat.
"You can cut the Big Bad Wolf shit, Puckerman," Santana said contemptuously, "I ain't scared." The growling stopped. Santana studied the nails of the hand she'd just used to throw the beast away. "Nice try, Snoopy, but I heard you from a mile away."
The wolf padded out of the shadows, then stopped and, with a fluid motion you'd have to videotape and watch in extreme slow motion to see, transformed itself into a crouching, naked human male. He stood quickly and sneered at the Latina, clearly not ashamed of his lack of coverage. "Bullshit, Lopez. You just got lucky is all."
"Sure I did," she sighed, dropping her hand, "Now c'mon, we're off to see the wizard, or the witch, rather. I brought you some clothes." She one-hand tossed the nylon backpack she'd grabbed out of the car at the shifter's feet.
"Clothes?" Puckerman said incredulously, putting his hands on his hips, "Whattsa matter? Can't handle the sight of the basilisk?" He accompanied this statement with a vicious hissing and thrusting of his hips.
Santana simultaneously turned away and rolled her eyes in disgust. "Oh, please. I've fed off of teenage strays with more to offer than you. Now, c'mon, I'm late as it is."
Puck gave her another smarmy grin before bending over to retrieve the sack. He opened it and immediately tossed aside the red boxers she'd put in the sack. While he struggled a bit to pull out the dark jeans in the sack, Santana stole another quick glance southward. Y'know, as much as I hate to admit it, he ain't that bad.
"Do you know nothing about privacy?" Puckerman exclaimed, smiling with his teeth now as he freed the jeans from the bag. "I do have my modesty, y'know."
Santana sighed and turned to go back to the car. "I'll be in the car when you're decent."
As soon as Puckerman had the door shut, Santana shifted into drive and sped off towards a nicer part of town. Well, a slightly nicer part of town at any rate. A private investigator tended to not live in a terribly upper-crust 'hood, unless he had some suspicious starlet signing his checks.
"So, what'd you find out?"
"Well, I heard from a sprite that the Gool's lookin' for…"
"Yes, yes, I know the Gool is looking for him," she sighed, blowing through a four way stop without so much as a contemptuous glance, "I just had to stop some of his goons from knocking off his sister downtown."
"Oh," Puck said, looking out the window. "She hot?"
"Is who hot, drool-face?"
"Pierce's sister. That dude ain't bad-looking himself. I'd almost kill for a female version."
"Yeah, actually she is pretty hot," Santana admitted after several moment's consideration and hesitation, "She's a dancer."
"Nice!"
"Hot sister aside, what else ya got?"
"Well, uh, not much, to tell you the truth," the werewolf relented, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He wasn't wearing a seatbelt, and neither was she. God help the cop who tried to stop them for it. "I sniffed around his place and didn't pick up anything, y'know, spooky. But, you know how unreliable that is, what with the state of teleport spells these days."
Santana nodded. "So, diluting everything you just said into a single statement, you're the biggest waste of three hundred dollars ever. That accurate?"
"Hey now, settle down, chica," Puck said defensively, "My lease ain't up yet. Probably any minute now you'll be finding yourself glad to have employed my services."
"Yeah? And maybe right after that, Sebastian Smythe will take his celibacy vows and join up at a monastery." She pulled the car into a parking space across the street from their destination and got out, heading straight across the street, not even glancing back to make sure Puckerman was following her.
Across the street, she saw that, unsurprisingly, her other consultant, who she liked no better than the first, was waiting for her outside the apartment building. The young woman was a short, pretty, young Asian girl, dressed head to toe in black, from her leather boots to her jacket to her gloves. She carried a dark green backpack over one shoulder. Beside her stood a tall man in jeans and a hoodie, a necklace with a bright blue gem for a pendant dangling from his neck.
"You're late," the short witch said, anger clearly evident in her voice, "You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago."
"Excuse my tardiness, Morticia," Santana mocked, leaning up against a nearby streetlight, "I had to pick up my pooch from the kennel." She nodded her head in the direction of Puck, who grinned and gave Tina a quick up-and-down review as a tease.
"Oh, a street werewolf," the witch shot back icily, giving Puckerman himself a once over, "My, what classy company you keep, succubus."
"I figured that if you were allowed to bring your pet, it wouldn't be a problem for me to bring mine along too," Santana said, gesturing to the man behind the witch, "And how is Michael today?" The man gave no response. There was no way he could.
"Michael is my familiar, you know that," Tina rumbled, "And at least he shows some respect, and decorum, unlike your dog. Who seems to have picked up some fleas, by the way." Puzzled, Santana looked over to see Puck standing on the sidewalk looking bored, one hand scratching absentmindedly at his butt. In his pants.
"Puckerman!" Santana screeched, and her consultant's hand immediately flew out of his jeans and up to his front, clasping the other. She turned back to Tina. "C'mon, let's get moving before someone starts asking questions. Fourth floor…"
"I know where it is," Tina replied, hitching up her backpack and nodding to her familiar, who immediately followed behind her obediently. Without waiting for Puck, Santana trudged on after her.
"Ouchie, we got ourselves a real ice queen here, huh?" the werewolf said from by her side. Without even looking she extended her hand in a backhand slap that felt like it took him full in the face. Good. "Okay, maybe I earned that, for the whole scratching thing. Anyway, what's with the hostility?"
Santana sighed as the pair followed Tina and her aide to the building's stairwell. Making sure she was out of earshot, she began to explain. "Well, given what I am, Tina doesn't exactly trust me. Hasn't from the day we met. I mean, I understand why she would be worried because, y'know, I do sex people to death for sustenance. Still, given how much I've helped her out, a little benefit of the doubt would be nice."
The two of them finally caught up to the others in front of apartment 4G, current residence of one Samuel Pierce, wizard.
"I've got the key," Santana announced, pulling it from her purse. She noticed Tina's face wrinkle in annoyance, but paid it no mind. Sam had given her this key, and to her it symbolized his trust. It had become one of her most precious possessions.
The group stepped inside, and Tina immediately stalked to the middle of the room, brushing past Santana. Her familiar followed immediately after her, though he at least had the courtesy to slide past her. As the witch began to take items out of her backpack, Santana glared at her. "Do your thing, Puckerman."
She heard the rustle of fabric as the werewolf disrobed. Seconds later, he padded out from behind her in full wolf form, sniffing the floor with his elongated snout. Feeling pretty useless right about now, she headed over to the bookshelf beside the small TV set, examining some of the volumes resting on it.
Her mindless perusing was unfortunately interrupted by a surprised squeal, an angry growl, and the loud crashing of broken glass. The succubus whirled around to see Tina glaring murderously at the wolf form of Puck, who was crouching next to a large pile off shattered glass and blue powder.
"Puckerman!" she cried out in exasperation and fury, stalking over to him. Suddenly remembering that they were rummaging in an apartment complex in the dead of night, she lowered her voice. "What the Hell did you do?"
"Your beast knocked over my Criskan powder," Tina explained angrily, hands on her hips, "How am I supposed to perform my detection spell without it, hmm?"
Santana grabbed the wolf's ear as hard as she could. The morpher whimpered in pain, changing back to human form as he did. "You're coming with me, Hound of the Bastardvilles." She dragged him into the hall and began to lay into him. "I swear to God, if you make me look bad one more time, not only will I fire you, I'll personally castrate you! With my teeth. Clear?" Puck nodded. "Good. Now, you stay out here. And don't let me catch you in wolf-mode, because if I do, there'll be worse than Hell to pay." She turned and stalked back into the apartment, leaving her consultant standing naked in the hallway.
Tina was now sitting in the center of the coffee table, legs crossed in a meditation pose. On either side of her were two lit candles, one blue and the other red. Santana craned her neck to see the Criskan powder, whatever hugely important mystical ingredient that was, spread around the coffee table in a circle. The witch's eyes were closed, and her mouth moved soundlessly, forming words Santana couldn't make out. Mike was crouched on the floor immediately outside the powder ring, trying to scoop what he could of what Puckerman had knocked over into a small leather pouch.
After a few moments, Tina mumbled something, causing Mike to spring up and scuff the powder circle with his boot, breaking it. Tina exhaled loudly as her power released itself throughout the room. Being mystical herself, Santana could feel the rush of the magic pass over her. It felt almost invasive, and she shivered slightly, hoping Tina couldn't see.
The witch stood slowly, her eyes now glowing green. She carefully swept the room, turning in circles to make sure she could take in everything. After a few seconds of observing the main room, she headed for Sam's bedchamber. Santana followed behind her, along with Mike, staying a few steps back.
Tina searched around the bedroom and bathroom, but didn't seem to find anything. Finally, the group emerged back into the main room, which Tina looked over once again, straining hard to maintain her spell. But ultimately she couldn't keep it up forever, and after several minutes, her eyes returned to normal. She frowned.
"Nothing," she sighed, walking over to the coffee table and beginning to pack up her equipment.
"So, what, no magical mojo hanging around?"
"Nothing serious enough to be involved in a kidnapping attempt," the witch explained, zipping her bag and tossing it over her shoulder, "I mean, there are minor things here and there, like magically adjusting the temperature to save on heating and cooling, or lighting a candle, but nothing so big as teleporting. Besides, Sam's got tons of protection against something like that set up around the place."
"All right," San sighed, looking over her shoulder, "I guess we'll go check out the office, since… Wait a minute." She stalked over to the door, where Puckerman, in wolf form, sat sniffing the door. She gave him a slight kick, and he whimpered and backed away, transforming back into human form. "What gives? I told you…"
"I smelled something on the door," Puck explained, standing up and planting his feet defiantly, "I thought it acceptable to disobey your orders, since I was furthering the investigation."
"Don't try and talk all smug, it makes you sound like even more of an asshole than you are," the succubus warned her consultant. "Now, what did you smell?"
"Someone other than Pierce," Puck answered vaguely. Santana raised an annoyed eyebrow, so he wisely decided to elaborate, "I can't tell you exactly who, but I know without a doubt that someone else was in that apartment. The same smell is all over the place."
"And you didn't inform me of this sooner because…"
"Hey, you were the one who threw a fit when I knocked over one little bottle of dust." Santana had to concede to that one.
"In either case, we're done here," she said, closing the door and locking it.
"Hey, my clothes!"
"Oops, sorry," she said mockingly, smirking slyly. "Well, it is a lovely night to walk the dog." Puckerman scowled, but shifted into wolf-mode regardless. He may not have been huge on modesty, but it's one thing to not care who saw what in an apartment building hallway in the dead of night, and quite another to traipse across half the city naked.
Santana lead the way back down to the elevator, looking for all the world like a woman taking her disturbingly large dog for a walk in the dark.
"It's here, too," Puck reported, rising from the floor of the modest office of Samuel Pierce's private investigation business, "The same smell. Whoever was at the apartment was here too."
Santana nodded. So, someone had visited both Sam's apartment and his office. Why? "Anything on the mojo front?"
"Yeah, there was definitely some kind of supernatural being in here," Tina reported, closing down her spell, "Most likely fairy, I'm about ninety-five percent sure."
Santana grimaced. If a fairy was somehow involved, things could get complicated. Due to the events of the past year, Sam had plenty of enemies among the Fae. And when dealing with fairies, every enemy was a potentially deadly one. "That it?"
"As far as I can…" Tina's statement was cut off when Puck brushed past her briskly. She made a disgusted noise and took a step back.
"Hang on," the werewolf said, dropping to one knee and disappearing behind Sam's desk. Curious, Santana followed him around to the back and peered down at him. After a minute of rummaging, he emerged, gripping a small object in his hand. A pen, she observed upon further study. "Well, if this ain't a clue, I don't know what is."
"How is a pen a clue…" Tina began to ask, but was once again cut off.
"Because this pen has a name on it. See, I am worth my retainer."
Santana made a disgusted noise and snatched the pen from his hand. She read the name engraved on it and made an increasingly disgusted noise. "Whose pen is that?" Tina asked.
"Someone who's always sticking his nose where it doesn't belong," Santana answered.