Siren Song

Chapter 4: Détente*

"The feud is over, detective." – Xanatos, to Elisa Maza, from "Hunter's Moon, Part 3."

"You want me to work on this … 'Restoration Project,' then." They were standing on opposite sides of his desk, each leaning over to look at the papers.

"Yes. There's not a problem with that, is there?"

"No, of course not. I was just wondering if there was any particular reason why."

"Not really, no."

"I know better than that," she said quietly.

"Do you think so, even now?"

"Always."

Owen blinked. "Indeed. Well, if you must know, I was thinking that success on this project might go a long way in smoothing over any potential animosity between you and the Manhattan Clan."

Her eyes narrowed. "I don't need to you to play peacemaker on my behalf."

"Why shouldn't I? You've never learned to do it yourself. You're too proud."

"Look who's talking."

Owen frowned. "Defiance and pride are two entirely different things."

"So you say."

"I am trying to help you."

"Are you?"

"Yes, and it wouldn't kill you to be grateful."

She looked as if she had a sharp reply on the tip of her tongue, but then seemed to think better of it. Instead, she walked over to his side of the desk, stopping when they were standing face to face. She touched his hand, the stone one.

"I suppose you're right," she said softly. And with that, he felt the stone turn to flesh again.

For once, she had the pleasure of catching him off guard. Owen slowly unclenched his fist, marveling at the returning sensations. He held his restored hand out before him, flexing his fingers, his eyes wide, disbelieving. Before Oberon's punishment, the stone fist hadn't bothered him. At that point, he could have changed it back himself if he wanted to. But he'd been committed to remaining "in character" as a mortal.

Then, once he'd been stripped of his powers, the choice had been taken away, and he'd come to quietly resent it, as a constant reminder of what he'd lost.

Of course, he'd considered ways to restore his hand; he often thought of turning it into a transformation lesson for Alexander. But that kind of spell was tricky for one so young, even as talented as his pupil was; he had no desire to risk disastrous results for himself by pushing the boy to try something like that too soon. So he had a potential way to restore his hand, but the possibility was years down the line. To have the problem taken care of so soon was quite a pleasant surprise.

Molly was smiling at him. "Consider it a token of my gratitude, then. And a gesture of good faith." She sounded a bit breathless, he realized. She staggered unsteadily on her feet, and he caught before she sank to the floor, guiding her gently back into the chair.

"Are you alright?"

"That … shouldn't have taken so much out of me," she said shakily, and a bit angrily. Clearly, she hadn't yet accepted the reality of her reduced power.

"You've been doing magic all day … vanishing, re-appearing, and now this … it's a bit much, I think."

"It would have been nothing before." Her tone was bitter.

"Don't dwell on it," he advised, squeezing her shoulder briefly. "You should go rest now. We can start on the project tomorrow."

"Alright." She looked up at him. "You know, it wouldn't kill you either."

"What?"

"To be grateful."

"Oh, of course. Thank you."

She nodded, and then stood up, rather slowly, grasping his newly restored hand briefly for support, and started gingerly walking out the room. He was already busying himself with paperwork when he heard her voice.

"Puck?"

She was standing in the threshold of the doorway when he looked up, slightly startled. The disturbing thought occurred to him that, at times, his true name felt foreign to him.

"Yes?"

"How … how can I stand this?"

For a moment he was struck by how vulnerable she sounded. He didn't like it.

"You … will learn to adapt, as I have. Speaking of which, you had better not call me … that. At least, not in public."

She shrugged. "We're not in public now."

"No, little siren. We are not."

A brief smile flickered across her features. "Goodnight, then." And she left. But still, he waited, mentally counting down.

3 … 2 …1.

Right on cue, she popped her head back in the door, scowling. "Public or private … don't call me that."

A smirk was his only response, and she finally retreated, with an exasperated sigh.

Meanwhile, in another part of the building, Xanatos was filling his wife in on the situation.

"So, we have a new employee. Any idea on what you're going to have her do?"

"I'm trusting Owen to find the right role for her in the company. But whatever he has her working on, it's only going to part of her job description."

"Oh?"

"She's agreed to teach you magic."

He expected her to be pleased by this, but Fox reacted only with stunned silence. He clasped her hand.

"What's the matter? I thought you'd be happy."

"I am … but …"

"What?"

"David, I'm a little scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Of losing control. Like with the Eye of Odin –"

Xanantos scoffed. "That was different –"

"That was magic. Avalon's magic. And it nearly destroyed me."

He didn't like to think about that. He wrapped his arms around his wife comfortingly, and she laid her head on his shoulder.

"Fox, the Eye was an outside force exerting influence over you," he said soothingly, his chin resting atop her head. "The magic we're talking about now, even if it's the same type, is coming from within. If our infant son can control his magical powers, you certainly can. I believe in you. It's going to be fine." He pulled back to look at her. "Okay?"

She took a deep breath. "Okay. I'll talk to her soon. Now, about the best way to break the news to the gargoyles …"

Xanatos sighed. "Oh yes, that."

"I think you should –"

"You mean we. We're doing this together, my dear. Oh come on now," he added, when she started to protest. "I need you."

He'd rarely admit to such a thing, Fox knew. She sighed. "Well, let's just get over with then. For the record, I think we should tell Goliath privately, and then he can pass it on to the rest of the clan."

"Sounds good. Shall we?"

She rolled her eyes. "This is going to be fun."

"What?" A short while later, they were standing before Goliath, having just explained things to him. As expected, he wasn't taking it very well.

"Goliath, try to see it from her perspective –"

"Her perspective? She nearly killed Elisa in Ireland with her wailing! If Bronx hadn't –"

"She was desperate," Fox said quickly. Of course, she didn't really know if that was the case, but she needed to say something to appease him. "She thought you were sent by Oberon."

Goliath scowled. "That's no excuse."

"No, it's not," Xanatos agreed smoothly. "But it's not as though she hasn't suffered consequences for her actions. She's exiled from her home, Goliath. She's alone, and she has nowhere else to go.

Goliath folded his arms in front of him. "You make it sound as though you are taking her in out of pity. Do not insult me, Xanatos. You seek to make use of her magical abilities, even as muted as you claim they now are."

"You're right," he conceded. "I do intend to make use of her. She's going to work for my company."

"And?" Goliath prompted, clearly knowing that was not all.

"And … she's going to teach me magic. The magic of my mother's people." Fox admitted. The gargoyle's eyes widened.

"Why?"

"Why not?" Xanatos countered. "It's part of Fox's heritage. She's already tapped into it once, and she was able to hurt someone who was trying to take our son. Why shouldn't she be able to call on that ability again, to protect herself, and others?"

"And you trust the Banshee to help her do this?"

"I trust that she realizes helping us can only serve her own interests. And I trust that Owen will keep a close eye on her and make sure she doesn't have any hidden agenda. Goliath, she's already expressed regret over the misunderstanding that you had in Ireland." Well, she hadn't exactly, but he had no qualms about fudging the truth just a bit in order to smooth things over.

"'Misunderstanding' is something of an understatement," Goliath said darkly.

"Of course, forgive me. In any case," he continued. "I can promise that she's not going to be bothering you or your clan. You probably won't even realize she's here."

"Vey well," Goliath said reluctantly. He didn't look pleased, but at least he seemed resigned. He paused. "You didn't have to tell me this, Xanatos. You could have kept her true identity a secret."

"I could have, yes. But after everything that's happened … well, a little honesty is the least I can do. Though I must admit, it does feel a bit strange to be so forthcoming." Relatively speaking, of course.

Goliath smiled despite himself. "Do it a little more often and you'll get used to it."

Xanatos chuckled. "I'm afraid I just might." He offered his hand, and after a moment, Goliath shook it.

"I will share this news with Elisa and the rest of the clan. We will not bother your new … employee."

"Thank you, Goliath. I appreciate it. Now, if you'll excuse us, I think it's time we retired for the evening." He nodded, and the couple left.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," Fox said quietly.

"We're fortunate Goliath is so reasonable."

She smiled. "Careful, David. At this rate, he'll be calling you a friend any day now."

"Oh, I think we're a long way from that day yet."

"Maybe. Maybe not. You know, the more I think about, the more I'm actually starting to getting excited."

"About what?"

"Learning magic, of course."

"Yes, it should prove quite useful for our protection."

"Not to mention the next time someone crosses us in a business deal, I can turn them into a rabbit or something." He laughed again, softly.

"You are so wicked, Fox my dear." He said, drawing her to him.

"Would you have me any other way?"

"No," he said huskily, and kissed her, and for the moment, they let all their scheming fade away.

*"Détente" is a French word for "the easing of tensions or strained relations as by agreement, negotiation, or tacit understandings."