The cold wind bit past the flimsy faux woolen overcoat Dresden had given her. It was definitely not quite what she wanted when she requested clothing from Baines, barely adequate for her purposes. It also looked a little threadbare and was, not to mention, stained with white paint.
Alexandria's lips quirked upwards as she thought. Perhaps she would have to inform Baines that these clothes were insufficient and that hence, his debt owed to her still stood. It was admittingly odd the way debts seemed to be held in such high regard. Of course, she suspected that it seemed to mainly hold true solely for the abnormal, these wizards and the creatures of legend made manifest.
From above the entirety of Chicago was quite similar to the Chicago of her memories, of her world. This Chicago, however, was less scarred. The suburbs were intact and unburned, unmarred by parahuman super-arsonists. The skyline itself was unmistakable, and even held a few more buildings than she was able to recall with her perfect memory. Ergo, this Chicago was better off.
Storm clouds lingered on the horizon as dark omens and Alexandria frowned from her place drifting in the eddies above the city. She allowed herself to sway slightly with the wind so she wouldn't stand out to any that craned their eyes heavenwards.
She ignored the updraft that penetrated her oversized overcoat and cast her gaze toward what she knew was the McCormick Place Complex. She had been there before for various Protectorate functions, as both her alter ego, the enigmatic head of the PRT, and herself. She had been faintly surprised that the White Council had only rented one of the smaller buildings.
She had expected an organization of superpowered individuals with global reach to opt for a larger building in the complex, but in the end, it didn't really affect her opinion of them much. She found herself slightly disappointed. With her eyesight she could see the armed guards, she supposed they must be Baines' fellow Wardens, each armed with an actual sword.
With a minuscule frown she reminded herself internally that she needed to be cautious. If they saw fit to use a sword, then chances were that the swords had some kind of ability. Unless, they were just supposed to function as an honor guard, while the real security lurked in the shadows unseen. Her eyes flickered over the convention, at least they were set up in an effective pattern, it would be fairly difficult for an ordinary vanilla human to get by them, or even the supernatural but still within extreme human norms Red Court.
The wind whistled around her as she returned to the sky above Dresden's office complex within the space between a moment and the next.
A rusted blue beetle crawled along the tarmac of the road below. This time Alexandria couldn't help her slight snort of derision, or rather she didn't bother to hold it back. Let's just say, she thought idly, Dresden both seemed incapable of making a good impression and similarly incapable of gaining a good impression.
By all indications he was a slovenly slob who allowed his own grief over some loss to consume his life, driving him into a rut that she doubted he would be able to climb out of without a significant force. He did have some spine, so Alexandria refused to write him off as a complete lost cause, after all, for even she herself had broken at two different parts of her life.
She shifted in the air, letting the wind play over her body, pressing the oversized coat against her unyielding body. With one invincible hand, she grabbed the lapels of her coat and accelerated, returning to where she left Baines within an instant. Wearing a coat was an annoying experience, especially one that buttoned when the wind shear was constantly threatening to tear it off her body if she wanted to go anywhere in a timely manner.
She was back in front of Dresden's office building and where Baines was waiting.
"I find Dresden's mode of transportation insufficient," she informed Baines.
He startled, taking a step back and flinching mightily. One hand flying forward into a warding gesture at her near instantaneous appearance. She floated for a moment before him, sending an eye over him and the thralls, who were most conspicuously not inside the lobby where she had left them.
The thralls stood around, unbothered by the cold spring breeze currently barreling down the street. Baines grey cloak dripped blood, and Alexandria regarded him coolly for a moment, before dismissing it. She was certain that if whatever wound he had was serious that he would have said something.
A flicker of light and the pixie dived off Baines's shoulder and flittered over on her tiny gossamer wings to alight on her hand. She raised the little pixie to her face, taking in the little creature once again. A little tuft of blue hair, flickering sparkly wings, and the same pine needle skirt as before.
"Report," Alexandria requested.
The pixie saluted, tiny hand across her chest, as if she was beating a breastplate, she beamed up at Alexandria, "We were illegal!"
Alexandria raised a brow, carefully exaggerating the gesture for the benefit of the pixie, "Illegal?"
"The security guard didn't like me loitering, especially with such a large gathering," Baines explained, seeming exasperated.
The pixie spun in place as fast as she could, "I told everyone how awesome you are!"
Alexandria permitted herself to cast an amused half-smile down on the pixie before she spoke softly, "Hush."
The pixie, still seeming quite proud of herself hopped forward, landing on the front of Alexandria's coat and slipped into the pocket. Alexandria could feel her moving around for a moment before she poked her head up with a nickel clutched in her tiny hands.
"Mine?" she asked, head oriented quizzically up toward Alexandria.
"Dresden is," Alexandria responded to Baines instead, "Not what I expected."
Baines' face seemed to make a sour expression, "Where is he?"
His question was answered by the Blue Volkswagen beetle that sputtered to a spot in front of them. Alexandria pursed her lips when Dresden clambered out, looking over their motley group. His dark eyes lingered on the pixie in her pocket for a moment before settling on Baines.
His eyes widened just a tad as he caught sight of Baines, who was currently resting against the wall. Baines raised a hand in a half-greeting, which Dresden unconsciously began to return before arresting the motion.
"This isn't going to work," Dresden eyed the thralls and his Volkswagen as if seriously wondering whether he could fit thirteen people, plus Baines and Alexandria into it.
Dresden stepped forward, toward one of the woman thralls. After a split moment, he flinched backward as if he had been slapped, even as his hand tightened around his staff. Alexandria's attention was drawn to the silver pentacle necklace, crowned with a gem that swung free from his coat at the sudden movement.
"Thralls." Dresden croaked, more to himself than to them. His words were slightly self recriminatory as if he was sorry for doubting her. Alexandria felt faint vindication, his earlier flippancy seemed to have cooled away, no doubt because of the venting session he had when he first got in his car on the other side of the building, before she took off rather than ride in a vehicle that was liable to disintegrate around her adamantine body rather than serve as transportation.
"Warden Baines," Alexandria gestured, just a slight turn of her wrist enough to draw his attention and then some.
Baines grunted, and shifted, a pained hiss leaving his lips, "Wizard Dresden, I need your help."
"Everyone needs my help today," Dresden muttered with no small amount of annoyance in his voice. However, the words weren't a denial of Baines's request so Baines continued promptly.
"She," Baines gestured weakly to Alexandria. "Alexandria helped me escape Winter, I need to get to the White Council."
Dresden's face twitched, his eyes roving over the group again. Alexandria noted with narrowed eyes, that Dresden seemed extremely tense. She could bring Baines to the convention center. Dresden had already told her where it was, but she wanted to meet the White Council on the best possible terms, and startling them with her arrival probably wasn't the way to go.
"I'm not that stupid," Dresden finally said, "If you think I'm just going to let you and Lexy, whatever she is, waltz into the White Council you've got another thing coming, Warden Pasty."
Alexandria decided not to point out that he had already told her where the White Council was meeting while they were on the stairwell. It would probably do little to stop this confrontation and might even exacerbate it if he was reminded.
"Lexy?" Baines whispered to himself, half-horrified before the rest of the sentence caught up with him. His expression went through a series of emotions before settling on fear tinged exasperation.
"You have a phone?" He asked haltingly.
Dresden regarded him for a moment, leaning on his staff, not answering.
"They're using the McCormick Complex, aren't they?" Baines continued, evidentially trying to be reasonable.
Dresden glowered but didn't respond to that either, just continuing to stare down Baines for a moment before responding, "No, they're using the Kennedy Space Center."
Baines blinked, his expression screaming 'What?'
"I can carry a message," Alexandria offered, finally growing irritated with the two of them. At least, irritated enough that she decided to just move the whole conversation along. Skip the pointless argument and posturing.
Baines made a complicated expression as if he didn't know whether to trust her or not, "At what price?"
Alexandria smiled, self-amused, and held out her hand, the pixie flitted out and dropped the nickel into her hand.
"For the price of Dresden's nickel, of course, for my little fairy friend," she offered smoothly. Face stoic immediately afterward. The continued reference to debt for even the smallest things was endlessly interesting. It was clear from Dresden's face that a nickel was not nearly enough for whatever task she was performing.
Baines sighed, but he eyed the nickel suspiciously as if to ask whether it was actually a nickel. His expression seemed to express his thoughts that he was somehow being hoodwinked but couldn't figure out how.
"Ask for LaFortier, he knows me," Baines finally responded, before looking upwards.
"Wait just a minute," Dresden interjected, "The sanctimonious bald French guy?"