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A/N: Day Two!
Total Word Count: 4, 853
A new day, a new city. Will had to admit that it was more convenient to take the tunnel reaching up towards New York than the convoluted overland route from Old City. He arrived at the Sanctuary in the late morning able to greet Anya, who had taken over after Wexford's fiery descent, with cheer.
The remainder of the day passed in the bustle of catching up on the changing status of the Sanctuary in the global milieu, current operations, new procedures, and of course paperwork. By the time Will retired to bed in the suite he was becoming accustomed to thinking of as 'his,' he suspected the night's dreams would involve smothering under stacks of forms to be initialed.
Instead he awoke after a few short hours to the unbearable waking nightmare of insomnia. He tried to fight it, rolling determinedly into his pillow, but no position could push his fatigued wakefulness back into slumber.
Unexpectedly, the way that Abby's hair smelled, a mix of cherry and jasmine, popped into his head. Whenever the had fallen asleep together, somehow he had always woken up spooning her, nose filled with that sweet floral scent. it had soothed him then, but now it pushed sleep further away. He wasn't exactly eager to see what other memories would decide to join the party next.
Will frowned as he pondered the blinking clock. He was a little shaky on time zones, but he was relatively certain that London would be awake at this hour.
"Will?"
"Good, uh, morning?" Will hazarded a guess based on Declan's tone of relative alertness. "How's it looking on that side of the pond?" Sometimes it was fun to mangle a British accent just for the sake of it.
"A bit of rain cropping up, but at least the people talk right," it was a bit less fun when he couldn't see the wince on the other end of the phone. "I'm guessing there's not an emergency Down Under?"
"I think Australia's doing fine, why d'you ask?" Will smirked. That would never get old. "I'm in New York right now, anyway."
"How's it look to be holding up?" Declan asked with a note of worry. Given that it was located in the same country as SCIU, the backlash against the New York City Sanctuary was a continuing worry. A not-unwarranted one as well.
"Holding," Will volunteered cautiously. "I think we're in the lull between the initial fallout and what will happen once the multitude of subcommittees quit meeting and start acting."
"So good for a couple of months yet, then," Will grinned at the phone as Declan continued. "I notice that I've a large file waiting in my inbox with your name attached. But as I've got you on the line..."
"That's all I get? Two minutes of conversation, then it's back to work?" Will sniffed loudly. "Not even a 'cheerio chap 'ow's your day'?"
"If I ask how your day is, will you never say that sentence again?"
"Promise."
"Cause it makes you sound like that Mary Poppins chap while he's stuffed down a chimney. With a head cold."
"Wow. That's really, um, precise. What was in your tea this morning?"
"Not that the movie didn't butcher the books almost out of all sight anyway. Real Mary Poppins would have had it up to here with that chipper malarkey in a flat tick."
"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. You're a Mary Poppins fan?" There was a moment of silence from the far end of the call.
"How's your day?"
Will snorted. "Well, I'm sure a spoonful of sugar will liven it right up."
"Second thought, maybe I'll just have a go at that report instead."
Will weighed the delights of continuing this unexpectedly educational line of conversation against the probability of being hung up on and having nothing but paperwork to sustain him until daybreak. It wasn't as though he couldn't capitalize upon this later, he supposed.
"You don't want to do that," he decided. "I'm much more entertaining. And I should know, since I wrote it."
"We'll see about that. How are the residents faring?"
"Decently. The last of those going Under were taken by the team I came up with, so there's no one to hide anymore, which should relax things a bit. All that's left now is like the London setup: humanoid abnormals integrated with society, a handful who can't survive below, and holding bays for new intakes."
"Good, that'll take a good bit off our task pile. What's the rest of all this, then?" Will could hear muted clicking sounds. "Proposed rotation schedules?"
"That's just an idea that Anya and I want to propose for both here and London. Given that the core of the Sanctuary is now Under, we thought that those remaining above who can should rotate down there periodically to remain connected. Or at least have the option. Eliminates that pesky feeling of exile."
"It's a nice thought, but those up here did choose to stay, Will."
"Yes, but they should know that Under is always an option. These two Sanctuaries aren't the Pluto to our planetary system."
"Add it to the agenda for the next network meeting. It's at least worth being discussed. Without the analogy."
Will mastered his desire to snicker long enough to say, "Anya already has." The concept of the network meetings always brought to mind the Council meetings in Star Wars. The image drifted through his mind despite repeated attempts to banish it, made especially disturbing by the thought of Magnus as Yoda. 'Evil is the coffee. Tea only we shall have!' He tried to cover up his laugh with a hasty clearing of his throat.
They managed to make it through the new security measures designed to protect SCIU from getting wind of a potential threat and invading as well as those to protect New York in the event of a SCIU invasion without further incident.
"Sad to say, but I've a meeting coming up soon," Declan said regretfully. "I'll skim the rest from your report."
"S'okay. The sun should be up here in the near future and I should go help out with morning rounds."
"Hm," the beat of silence following the sound hesitated, but Will let out a muted rush of breath when Declan continued without asking the reason for the middle of the night call. "So you'll be headed out this way next, then, right? Or is it a stop in Old City with the girl first?"
And apparently Declan hadn't talked to Magnus since yesterday. Or was it the day before? He hated time zones.
"No, I'm headed out your way next," Will paused, wondering if he should just end it there. He'd just have to tell Declan later on, though. "The, uh, girl is no longer a stop exactly." He hoped that had come out in a 'plenty of fish,' manly sort of tone.
"Oh. Sorry there, mate."
"Nah, it's fine. We really haven't been seeing much of each other lately," the minute it came out of his mouth, Will smacked his own forehead. Was he going to reuse every one of Abby's phrases?
"Still, rough go," Declan's rough concern leveled out as he continued. "We'll do it up right when you get over here, then, yeah? See how T.J. goes it alone here, have a night on the town?"
"Well," Will cut off his initial impulse to turn down the offer. What the hell, a night barhopping with Declan would be a riot whatever the reason. "Actually, that sounds pretty good."
"Good, I'll get on it, you don't need to worry about a thing," Declan's tone sounded a bit too eager.
"Um, well, I'm worried now," what was he getting into?
"Don't see why. You already have one tattoo, right?" Okay, not so much eager, as evil. "Gotta run."
"Me too, I need to get an umbrella for your rainy London. I'll even try to find one that flies." Yeah, Declan was never hearing the end of this one. Especially if Will did wind up with another tattoo.
His only answer came in the form of the beep of the call being cut off. Will decided that it had sounded like a miffed beep and enjoyed the echoes of irritated transatlantic silence for a moment before finally crawling out of bed.
The rest of the day was a crash course in integrating the existing Sanctuary protocols with the new standards, taking down the last of the security measures from those abnormals in hiding who had since made their way Under, and remembering how nice it was to wind up where he was heading on the first try.
It was on a walk through of the newly finished holding areas that the walkie at Anya's hip crackled.
"Anya?"
Easily freeing the unit, Anya answered the call, "What's up?"
Will wondered if that sort of paranoia was rampant in all Sanctuaries. Signs were pointing towards 'yes.'
The staticy voice relayed, "CCTV is picking up something weird south of us."
"Weird how?"
"Uh, involves tentacles?"
"Yeah, that's probably us," Will offered. "Need a hand?"
"Never turn that down," Anya smiled. "Send the address to my phone, Mitch?"
A final crackling 'on it' echoed as they turned towards the parking garage. Will kept pace silently as Anya called a few more hands in to meet at the van without slowing down. Haste was essential. With the continuing Sanctuary shutout from global affairs, getting to abnormals first was one of the few means of keeping them out of the hands of SCIU.
Shut up in the van a short while later, Will listened to the bare details that Mitch had pulled off of hijacked channels while trying desperately to stay in his seat. Marlo had either been driving in the city for too long or not long enough, Will thought grimly as he slid to the other edge of his seat on another jerky swerve. Not looking towards the wind shield was probably a good plan. It was doubtful that he would see anything reassuring.
"So, we'll go through the front," Anya motioned as she summed up a plan. "Marlo wait around the alley with the van and Will?"
"We've got the back," he nodded at the quinterran across from him, who gave a wide grin in return. Provided she didn't remove her sunglasses, Terra shouldn't alarm any of the natives. Which was why she had chosen to stay above ground and help run New York. That and her insatiable love for both hole-in-the-wall cafes and Broadway.
Seal off all exits, go in with stunners, get away in the van. It was a good plan. It just didn't work.
"Why do they always hate me?" Will griped to Magnus after he and Anya had given her the update on the measures used to corral their newest guest. "Is there a sign on my back or something?"
"I have been meaning to talk to you about that," she responded airily, only laughing at his best glare.
"Oh, we are totally sending him down to you now," he muttered. "Next time it'll be you that gets the tentacle-burn in uncomfortable places."
She only grinned, before asking, "Have you had it seen to?"
"Enough of it to know that I'm not allergic to tentacle slime. Got a cream for the itching," he admitted, narrowing his eyes at Magnus' poor excuse for a straight face. "Glad to know my suffering brings you joy."
"Well, look on the bright side and all that," she turned the subject as Will's finger hovered melodramatically over the 'disconnect' button. "And Terra will be quite alright?"
"Yeah," he dropped his hand back to the desk. "Out of commission until her collarbone heals, but otherwise just bruised and, uh, tentacled. That doesn't sound right, but I can't think of another term for it."
"Perhaps just stick with abrasion," Magnus advised. "We'll have to arrange a hand off with New York once it's determined if the creature can survive subterranean levels. It should, from your description similar abnormals are thriving down here."
"I doubt anyone up here will fight you for it," Will grumbled, fingering the gash on his head courtesy of Tessa grabbing for him as they flew past each others tentacle prisons and winced. "If it didn't turn my stomach, I'd suggest trying him sashimi style."
She raised an admonishing eyebrow, but let the comment pass. "I had the chance to glance over your report. Progress there looks good. Well done, Will."
"It was the Sanctuary here, really," he shrugged. "I'm just the messenger boy."
"Not according to Anya," she countered. "Speaking of whom, I also saw the proposed staff rotations as well."
"With most of the Sanctuaries consolidated now, we don't want those remaining on the surface to get the impression that they've been forgotten. Or in exile or something," Will began his pitch.
"No, I quite agree," she held up a hand to stop him mid-argument. "Even if no one should choose to exercise the option given the current newness of our situation, it's still something we should have in place for the future. And those Underground may find themselves missing the surface more than they currently believe as well."
Will frowned a moment, trying to decided whether to pursue the obvious question her statement brought to mind. Why not, she had promised complete honesty, "Are you missing it more than you thought?"
"No," she answered thoughtfully. "At least not yet. I won't deny that I don't expect that to last forever, though. the past few months have kept us all so busy that I haven't had time to give it much thought. But that won't always be the case." Clearing her throat, she returned to a brisk tone, "I understand from Declan that you'll be heading to London next?"
"Yeah," he let the conversation go for now. "I probably stay out the week here and then catch a plane over there. Give whoever's watching me that satisfied feeling of knowing my every move so there won't be any awkward questions about magically transporting myself across the Atlantic."
"Probably for the best," Magnus acknowledged. "Declan's already hinted something about having plans, are you there for an extended stay?"
"Depends on if they need me," Will shrugged, "but probably no more than a week, maybe two. Long enough to enjoy hallways that stay the same on an hourly basis."
"The corridors do not move, Will," Magnus affirmed resignedly.
"So you keep saying," he said in a doubtful tone.
"Shouldn't you be abed?" she demanded, trying to hide a smile. "Declan said you called before eight in the morning. Isn't around three or four in New York?"
"Jet lag," he mumbled quickly. "Just heading to bed," he followed up, "soon as I get you to add stripes before my return."
"Get some sleep," Magnus ordered and then added with a glint in her eye before disconnecting, "and don't forget to see to your... abrasions."
Will glared at the black screen. She always had to have the last word. Fighting a smile, he moved to follow orders. 'Abrasions'. Bed. Revenge could wait until the morning.