This might sound weird to say, but I think this story is getting too caught up in the thief plotline. Might I remind you, this story is not about someone trying to steal the Book of the Ancient Ones. That was supposed to be an inlet to introduce Amelia to the royals and show how their relationship grows over time, and how the Empire reacts to it, but instead I'm getting bogged down in the nitty-gritty of how to catch the thief which is entirely aside from the point of the story.
I'm not going to drop that plotline. I don't want to just brush it off now that I've made it a big thing, just… don't expect it to last the entire story. It won't. In some ways the thief plotline is a prolonged intro.
A crate of powdered silver, gold chains, colored candles… standard summoning materials. The Detective has seen enough of it to recognize it on sight.
It's not illegal for churches to have summoning materials. Takodachis and other lesser eldritch are hardly an uncommon sight in cult cities.
What is illegal are the human skulls. When she pries apart a box shoved in the back of the storeroom underneath all the other boxes, that's exactly what she finds. They're needed for certain other summoning rituals of the less legal sort.
Footsteps clatter outside the door, and a second later it's thrown open. The Detective calmly presses the button on her watch, jumping five minutes into the past. She then stands up, walks to her past self who is investigating the crate of silver, and shoves them on the shoulder. Her past self freezes in place, then fades away over the course of two seconds as Invalidation takes effect.
The Detective then pulls out a phone and makes a call, speaking in a whisper. "Hello? London Central Police? I'm at the Dagon Street Church, and I'd like to report human remains."
After giving the police exact instructions, the Detective closes the phone, and steps out of the storage room while fitting an octopus mask back over her face and pulling a hood over her head. She borrowed standard priest attire from one of the workers at the Palace for this infiltration.
The church's basement is more simple than the main floor. It lacks the intricately carved pillars and patterned floor for one, and also the large ceiling. The Detective saw an atlantean deacon that was forced to constantly bend over to go through doors because the door frames are only six and a half feet tall, and his head almost scrapes the ceiling because it's only seven feet tall and he's six foot ten.
Security cameras, the small dome-like ones, are mounted in most corners of each room (with the exception of the bathrooms, the bedrooms, and the storage room), but their consistent placement is their biggest weakness. Some rooms have supporting pillars, and it's a simple matter to pass behind one into a blind spot and twist her watch back five more minutes and make another jump.
She waits behind the pillar for a moment as she hears the expected footsteps on the tile. Her past self moves through the room with purpose, calm but brisk, and as soon as she leaves the Detective makes her way up a flight of stairs and out the back door. She walks across the lawn to the back street, down the road, and then into a back-alley.
The Detective twists her watch a further ten minutes back in time, and makes another jump. She appears in the alley just as her past self is leaving to start her infiltration of the church. She then moves to the dumpster, pulls out a backpack from underneath it, and quickly changes back into a casual outfit and stuffs her cultist outfit inside, before turning off and dropping her burner phone into the dumpster and exiting at the other end of the alleyway.
The entire infiltration, search, and exfiltration took an hour and a half in Detective time, but only five minutes real time. That was the point of all her small jumps.
The cameras might pick up that there are doubles of a masked 'priest' walking around the church at the same time, but that's not a problem. As long as they can't see her face, no one is going to know who she is unless they're aware she's a time-traveler, and that's not public knowledge.
On her walk back to the palace, the Detective pulls out a notebook.
Human remains located. Use for illegal summoning likely. However, other supplies for reaper summoning were not present.
Searched private records of region's high priest. Found evidence of illegal demon selling, but nothing relevant to current case.
-Remember to check police files on investigation in the future. (High priority)
-Consider going back further in time and repeating search. Reaper summoning may have occurred a long time ago, and evidence subsequently disposed of. (Low priority)
This is the fourth church she's searched today, but the first of them that had signs of such severe illegal activity. Most of the churches she's looked through had some sort of corruption, but it's usually something minor like stealing from donations. Not something that needs the Detective's attention.
Also, the Detective learned that there are two 'high priest' titles in the Cult of the Ancient Ones hierarchy. There's the High Priest, the person the Detective met at the briefing and the second highest authority on religious matters behind Her Majesty, and then there are high priests, who are basically regional managers of the cult.
If that sounds confusing, that's because it is, and according to the internet it's actually caused problems before, but because the cult's high council stubbornly refuses to change either title (despite Her Majesty's endorsement of such an idea) because of some contradicting lines in old religious texts that make specific reference to 'high priests' as plural and then 'the high priest' singular as the highest religious authority, and so there has to be two kinds or else the cult is going against one of their foundational texts.
(At least, that's what the Detective read. She's not at all involved in the Cult of the Ancient ones, so she has no idea if there's more nuance to it than that. It's times like these she's quite happy that she follows the Aspects. They're much less complicated, and sometimes bring snacks.)
Rather than enter the palace through the front, the Detective makes use of her security pass to get in through a side entrance. She keeps her head down as some workers hauling in supplies for the kitchen glance her way, and she ducks into the service entrance and up the bare metal stairs to the second level and then into her office.
It's a pleasant, if slightly shocking, surprise to find someone already there, waiting patiently in the shadowed corner of the room.
"Detective." The figure whispers. Cold pink eyes stare through a grey veil that in turn covers a head of ghostly pink hair. A tattered black cape and tight-fitting black and red dress complete the look, helped by the side-buttons on the dress's bodice that give it a rather professional, almost military, feel despite the dress opening above the knees for mobility that shamelessly shows off her legs and high heels (the Detective still doesn't know how she fights in those).
"Mori." The Detective acknowledges. The Mori called her 'Detective', so she's here on business. The Detective instinctively brings her pencil and notebook back out. "You have news?"
"I do." The Mori says. "I've already told Gura because you weren't here, but I figured you might want to ask questions."
"Right, hit me."
"We think we found out where that scythe came from."
"Who's 'we'?"
"Underworld administration." The Mori says. "We started a search as soon as you told us about the problem. Someone outside of a reaper having a scythe is way against protocol. So either that shit got taken, or someone went against the rules to give it to 'em."
"And? Which was it?"
"Taken."
The Detective grimaces. That's not exactly what she wanted to hear. Reapers don't leave their scythes lying around. To 'take' a reaper's scythe generally means beating them in a straight-up fight, and considering a cut from a reaper scythe (when wielded by someone who actually knows what they're doing) is usually instant death, that means whoever took the scythe is one scary motherfucker. "Fuck."
"Yeah. Death wasn't happy about ol' Janne hiding it for so long. Pride thing, you know? Didn't want to admit some punk elf kicked his ass."
The Detective writes that down. An elf, huh? "What was the elf like?"
"Quick enough Janne couldn't get a hit in. Magic sword too. Could hit 'im even when he went smoke form."
Now the Detective frowns. "That… doesn't sound like the person I fought at all. They were pretty slow and easily worn out. The scythe probably swapped hands at some point." Oh Baelz, that probably means she's been wasting her time investigating churches. Well there's three weeks down the drain.
The Mori sighs. "I was afraid you'd say that. There's going to be so much paperwork when this is over…"
"How long ago was the theft?"
"Janne thinks four months, give or take a week. Most reaper's aren't all that good at keeping track of time. Sorta disconnected from the world, ya know?"
"Mmm." The Detective hums, brow furrowed, thinking. "Where did the theft take place?"
"Southern France. We're currently looking through Janne's mission records to figure out the exact location."
"Good. Tell me when you figure it out. I might have to take a trip." The Detective says, tapping her watch in her pocket.
"Will do. Gonna stop it before it starts?"
"I…" Amelia is the one who falters. "I guess."
The Mori raises her eyebrow, and Amelia hastily fixes her slipping persona.
"Sorry, yes, that's a good idea."
"You don't want to." The Mori says bluntly.
"Irrelevant."
The Mori narrows her eyes, but doesn't press the issue. The Detective has always appreciated her professionalism. "A reaper's scythe is magically tied to them. Usually, if we somehow displace it, we can call it back to ourself, and we can always feel where it is."
"I presume Janne can't do any of that right now."
"Yup. But you said the scythe was still able to make portals, right? So there can't have been a total dispel of the scythe's enchantments. Someone really knew what they were doing." The Mori says with a frown. "Wouldn't be surprised if someone planned this shit."
"They had to find a reaper, get the scythe, disenchant specific parts of it, smuggle it here, then maybe make a sale, and then plan and execute the actual theft attempt. Not necessarily in that order." The Detective muses. "Black market probably. Maybe a special order? Or just a chance fight into a chance sale?"
"Either way, this is gonna make things messy." The Mori grumbles. "Gura was talking about how they're probably gonna have to deal with the French government, and she didn't seem so happy about that."
"Politics." The Detective mutters scornfully.
"You've never dealt with politics."
"Doesn't mean I don't know it's always a shitshow."
"As someone whose job is half politics, I should be offended." The Mori says, not sounding even mildly offended. "So, anyhow, we're just getting into the investigation on our end, and this is basically a heads-up. I can't keep you updated all that often because I'm in charge of the whole investigation and that keeps me busy, so expect my next visit to be when I have something important."
"Can't send someone else to talk to us?"
"I could, but then where's my excuse to get out of the office?" The Mori asks with a wry, tired smile. "Any more questions?"
"Nope. I think you've told me what I need to know."
"Cool." The Mori says. "Now, with business out of the way, how you enjoying the palace, Ame?"
"It's… big. Too many people. But no one bothers me in the office except Her Highness."
"Figures." Calli clicks her tongue. "Well, at least you get good food, right?"
"...I pack my own meals."
Calli gives her an exasperated look. "Even if you don't wanna sit down you can request food to be delivered from the kitchen dude. I do it every time I drop by."
"Don't wanna bother them."
"Ame, it's literally their job to make food."
Amelia looks away. "But…"
"But…?" Calli prompts, crossing her arms. "You don't have an actual reason beyond that, do you?"
Amelia doesn't respond.
"You haven't even tried it once?"
"Their Imperial Majesties invited a bunch of people to dinner after a meeting. Tried fish. Was too nervous to really taste it." Amelia mumbles.
Calli sighs deeply, and Amelia cringes. She hates disappointing her.
"Sorry."
"Don't be, not sighing at you." Calli groans while pinching her brow, and then says under her breath. "Did they listen to nothing Kiara said?"
"What did Kiara say?"
"Guh?" Calli startles, then groans again. "Right, you've got stupidly good hearing. Forget I said anything. I should go."
"Okay…?"
"See you dude. Try something else from the kitchen. Oh, and Gura said to send you up when you got back, so uh, fifth floor."
Amelia's chest seizes up. Usually Her Highness visits the office. Why is she being called up? "Understood. Goodbye, Calli."
With a dramatic swish, Calli sweeps her cape over her head, covering herself with enough darkness to shadowstep away. Her body vanishes first, and her cloak is promptly sucked into a tiny singularity before vanishing after its owner.
Reapers are so extra with their entries and exits. Amelia will never admit she looks forward to it. Calli is so cool.
But with Calli gone, the Detective is compelled to obey her summons to the fifth floor. She steps out of her office and navigates to the maintenance stairways again to climb to the third floor, across two hallways to get to the next set of maintenance stairways (because, remember, the third floor separates stairways for security) and climbs to the fourth level, moves across the floor to another maintenance staircase, and climbs to the fifth.
She stands nervously in front of the door that will open up to the fifth floor. Why did Her Highness call her? Is there something wrong? Do they just want to talk about this new information? Maybe this about her breaking into churches?
Actually, when she phrases it like that, it wouldn't be a surprise if this meeting was about her breaking into churches.
With an anxious exhale, she straightens her cap, fixes her clothes, and pulls open the door to the fifth floor.
(They should really put a lock on that now that she thinks about it. Actually, all the doors to the fifth floor should have locks. The lack of locks is the entire reason that she could run up and down the entire palace when she was retrieving Her Majesty's book, so while extremely useful at the time it is absolutely a security flaw.)
The fifth floor looks exactly like it did before. The Detective has come up near the meditation and pool chambers, within view of the doors to the bedchambers. She can't hear anyone, so she moves slowly down the hallway and peers into the living room.
A big blue couch with many pillows, a thick rug underneath, and a massive television dominate most of the room. There's a table and chairs before it, designed for maybe six people at most. None of it is nearly as fancy as you'd expect of imperial quarters, even if the walls are over-designed to hell and back.
(Actually, Calli has told her that the underworld has terrible architecture because they're not allowed to hire the peaceful dead to help them, so they can only rely on those being punished, who are usually more than happy to screw them over at every possible opportunity. It's part of the reason it takes so long for anything to get done down there. Their workforce is 95% death spirits for anything that actually matters, so they're horrendously under-staffed on a constant basis.)
Her Highness is nowhere to be seen, so the Detective wanders further down the hallway. She gets all the way to the end without a single idea of where she should actually be going. The Mori didn't give exact instructions.
Feeling like an intruder in this personalized space and not wanting to spend longer here than she has to, she walks to the main stairwell and pokes her head out to speak to a guard.
There's no guards at the main door. Why are there no guards at the main door? Why is the security in this place so terrible? How is she supposed to know where to go? Is she just supposed to wait?
That has to be it. She's supposed to wait. Her Highness probably didn't expect her discussion with the Mori to be so quick. She'll just take a seat- no, no that might be rude. She'll just stand here quietly. Trying not to scuff the carpet.
For a minute. Just a minute.
Maybe two.
…
She fidgets with her hat, then her watch. Her eyes glance nervously down the hallway. The Mori made it sound like she was expected. Did she misinterpret? Mishear? Did Calli forget part of the message?
The real question is if her fear of intruding in the imperial quarters is more or less severe than her fear of missing a meeting with someone she knows has a tight schedule.
(It's the latter.)
With anxiety weighing on her like a full kevlar vest, she walks up to the bedroom door, and knocks.
No response.
Okay, so… maybe she just goes around knocking on doors until she gets an answer? That sounds like a terrible idea. Is her Majesty supposed to be around right now? Oh Baelz, she just knocked on the bedroom door, what if her Majesty was sleeping!?
(Based on the fact no one answers the door, probably not.)
Still, the Detective is more careful on which door she chooses next. She tries to remember the map Her Highness showed her when she first took the job. She knows where the meditation chamber is, which is out of the question, but there is some sort of pool next door to it. That seems like more of a Her Highness place than Her Majesty. Maybe she can check there?
She really doesn't want to run into Her Majesty and have to tell her that she can't figure out where to go for a meeting because she's too scared to knock on doors… and then get scolded for knocking on doors that aren't hers to knock on, because these are the imperial quarters and she really shouldn't be here or touching anything, because she doesn't have a good reason like getting Her Majesty's book back this time, and she'll be thrown out of the palace and-
Just find Her Highness. Find Her Highness and no one will know she was wandering around like an idiot and she won't get fired for touching the bedroom door.
(Wait, aren't there spells on the bedroom door? Oh Baelz, does that mean she set off some silent alarm? She's already in trouble, isn't she?)
Something touches her shoulder, and The Detective stiffens in place and stands up straight. She expects Her Highness's disapproving voice, but instead something small and purple floats into view.
The Detective stares dumbly at the takodachi gently floating in front of her face. Its little tentacles push against the air in rhythmic pulses to keep it afloat, and like all takodachi it has a close-eyed smile on its face, just like Her Majesty.
"How did a takodachi get up here?" The Detective questions as it starts to float down the hallway. She knows for a fact she didn't see it when she was wandering just a few minutes ago. "Did someone summon it? Did it crawl through the vents or something? Did I accidentally let it in?"
Takodachi aren't usually found in the palace. There are a few that stay in the medical ward as comfort 'animals', and the throne room and prayer hall have some flying in the rafters (or so she's heard, because she's never visited either location), but otherwise the takodachis usually stay outside in the gardens.
Maybe someone left a window open.
The takodachi stops in the middle of the hallway and turns around to face her. When the Detective only stares, it floats back towards her, pokes her in the head, and then moves back down the hallway.
The Detective is embarrassed to admit it didn't occur to her that the takodachi wanted her to follow until it poked her. She reluctantly follows the lesser eldritch down the hallway to the room she knows to be the pool.
The takodachi sticks to the door with the little suction cups on the underside of its tentacles. Then it waits.
With extreme reluctance, the Detective grabs the door handle and slowly, cautiously, pushes it open.
The pool room is a lot more elaborate than the map first had her believe. The room has a very clear Atlantean design theme, and if the Detective isn't wrong then the walls are made of Atlantean greenstone. They have pillars just like the rest of the house, but in a much more Atlantean classical style with more than just sharks and octopi visible on their engravings. The Detective can see depictions of Poseidon, his wives, and his children. There are depictions of fish, marine mammals, and deep sea creatures. Whoever designed this room made an effort to have every aquatic animal represented in some way.
The ceiling is high and vaulted like a cathedral, with a myriad of stain-glass pictures adoring the raised portions of the ceiling that send a rainbow of color spraying across the floor in stretched, intersecting geometric shapes.
The floor is tiled. Blue and turquoise, alternating. There are plastic chairs with water-repelling cushions around the room's edge, and a stack of plain white towels in each corner.
Most of the room is taken up by a pool. A large, rectangular tub with a bottom that gradually deepens the closer you get to the center, like some kind of sink. There are stairs at the nearest corner, but otherwise the pool is occupied by his slope. At the very bottom of the pool is a disc of some sort. A plug maybe. Big enough that a person could fit through comfortably, if the plug were removed. Beyond the pool is also a large hot tub.
There's a person in the pool. A familiar person that lazily circles the bottom, shark tail slowly pushing them along. They roll over, and the Detective finds red eyes staring out at them from the depths.
She quickly looks away, still feeling like an intruder. The takodachi floats past her head and over the water.
A splash can be heard a moment later, near the closest side of the pool to the Detective. The Detective can see the edge of the pool so she can see arms cross on the edge, keeping their owner anchored to the side of the pool without getting out.
"Detective." Her Highness says. The Detective swallows thickly. They don't sound angry. That's good, right? "Brought a friend this time?"
It takes her a second before she realizes Her Highness is talking about the takodachi. "Not intentionally, Your Highness. I was unsure where to go, and it guided me."
"Ahh, you touched the bedroom door didn't you?"
The Detective looks up in alarm. "Y-Yes, I did, how could you-?"
"Ina can sense anyone who touches the door, and she's summoned takodachies to guide people before." Her Highness shrugs. "So if you touched the door she probably got a mental ping, and summoned a takodachi to point you in my direction."
"Oh." The Detective hopes her mortification isn't too obvious. "Don't takodachies need a ritual to summon? Don't they have to be summoned on location?"
"Not if you're Ina."
Right. She's a fool. Of course the woman chosen by the Ancient Ones would be able to call takodachis, the least of all eldritch, on a whim. It probably doesn't take Her Majesty more than a thought.
"So there's two things I wanted to talk to ya about." Her Highness says. The Detective can hear a swish as their tail strokes the water, and a subtle scraping noise as their clawed fingers drag on the tile when they make a slight adjustment to their position. A hint of amusement enters her voice when she speaks next. "But first, please stop staring at the floor Detective. This is a conversation, not a lecture."
The Detective jerks her gaze upward, feeling shame that she needed to be scolded for her rudeness.
She almost wishes she hadn't.
Her Highness is not wearing anything revealing. It looks like some sort of Atlantean clothes. A somewhat loose collection of white cloth that covers most of their torso and legs. It's far and above the most casual thing she's ever seen Her Highness wear.
The problem isn't that it looks terrible. No, the problem is the exact opposite. The problem is that Her Highness just came out of the water, and has her hair down, and there's multi-colored light coming down from the ceiling. So maybe there are some shiny water droplets clinging to their hair, and their toned arms.
Scarred arms actually. Amelia's eyes trace a long, thin, white scar up Her Highness's bicep to her shoulder. The scar pushes into their skin just enough to catch water droplets and guide them down the arm, dripping down a firm muscle to land on the tiles.
"Detective?"
Right, right! Conversation, royalty, not looking like a moron! She jerks her eyes to Her Highness's face and her lovely, sparkling hair and piercing red eyes that send a lovely chill down her spine… and the smile. The slight, amused quirk to her lips as she opens her mouth to speak, revealing pearly, sharp teeth pulled into a smile. "Y-Yes Your Highness?"
"That took a while, is something wrong?" Her Highness asks, a distinctly amused tone to their voice.
"N-No! Everything is perfectly fine, Your Highness! Nothing is stron- I mean nothing is wrong! It was just, uh, the lights! The architecture!" The light on their hair and the architecture of their muscles, but she doesn't need to say that part.
"Uh-huh." Her Highness says, unconvinced. "Which is why you were staring at me, right?"
Fuck. "I… I'm so sorry, Your Highness."
"You're sorry for staring? Are you implying I'm ugly, Detective?"
Their tone is clearly teasing, but in a blind panic their tone goes completely over the Detective's head. "I-I would never! You're beautiful, Your Highness!"
"Really now?" Her Highness rolls their head to one side, eyebrow raised, in a devastating move that reveals a smooth swath of her neck and makes her hair shimmer all the more in the multicolored light coming from above. The barely-restrained grin on their face helps, even if it makes Amelia feel like she's going to suffocate. "Detective, are you trying to smooth-talk me?"
"I-I-I-" Amelia stammers. What is she supposed to say here!? What words need to come out of her mouth so she doesn't seem rude? She doesn't want Her Highness to think she's hitting on them, but also doesn't want to imply they're not attractive because that would be a flagrant lie! "I w-wouldn't dare!"
"Yeah, that's usually Ina's job. I'd say it's a politician thing, but most politicians couldn't charm their way past a fish."
Right. Ina. Her Majesty, who is Her Highness's wife, which means she should not be doing… whatever this is with Her Highness, and she should never have stared in the first place. Her Highness is a married woman, what is Amelia think she's doing here, what's going on, she needs to get out-
"I'm the fish." Her Highness adds belatedly, when Amelia doesn't respond. "In case that wasn't clear."
"I-It was, Highness." Amelia says, just so she can say something and not stare and gape like a fish at the second most important person in the Empire.
"Ah, good." Her Highness sighs. "Just give me a second to dry off and we can chat… unless you want to come for a swim?"
Amelia wouldn't be surprised if steam is coming out of her ears. "I-I-I-"
"Yeah, okay, I get it." Her Highness chuckles. She starts pushing out of the water, her muscles visibly flexing and making Amelia's mouth go dry. She looks away before she starts ogling again. "I'll towel off. Meet you at the table."
Amelia flees the room as quickly as she can without causing offense, sits down at the table, and drops her face onto it with a whine.
The takodachi flutters down next to her, cooing and nuzzling against her cheek. She pats it on the head, and its flaps wiggle happily while its body squishes a bit like a plush each time she pats it.
It's soothing, in a way. Like petting a therapy dog. She scratches behind the takodachi's flaps, and it leans into the touch with more happy coos.
By the time Her Highness walks out of her room in simple clothes (grey sweat pants and a loose blue shirt) and casually slips into the chair next to her, Amelia no longer feels like she's going to have a panic attack.
"So." Her Highness says. "Two things: first, Calli news, second, some local reports I need to check with you. Which first?"
"The Mori."
"Right. I assume she filled you in on Janne and the elf and all that?"
"Yes."
"Good. So, we're looking into it, obviously. Probably gonna have to deal with the French government, which'll be a pain, but that's more Ina's thing anyways. Me and you, mostly me actually, have a different problem."
"Which is?"
"Figuring out how someone smuggled a godsdamn reaper scythe through the border and figuring out where the handoff happened if it happened in our borders." Her Highness says. "This is in addition to our original goals, like figuring out the thief's identity. The border stuff is mostly going to be handed off to MI5, and I'd tell you what MI6 is doing about this but that shit is still way above your clearance right now."
"Right." The Detective frowns. "So what do you want me to do?"
"Really… I don't know." Her Highness admits. "Your time travel could be useful anywhere, but based on the resume Kiara gave us and what you've told us, most of this border stuff is outside your area of expertise. Customs isn't exactly a cult to be disassembled, you know?"
"I see." Something uncomfortable curls in her gut. Despite all her skills, she's useless aside from her watch. If it weren't for that, she probably wouldn't be sitting here.
"That said, I deal with the more mundane stuff, so Ina might have a better idea. She was poking her nose into what we know about illegal summonings and the magic item black market even before Calli dropped this on us. So I wouldn't be surprised if she'll have something to point you at in the next day or two now that we know what we know. Seems more up your alley."
That sounds more like hollow assurances meant to placate her than an actual assurance that she'll have a use. The Detective knows there isn't much for her to do. She hates to admit it, but most of this stuff is way over her head. She works… not narrow focus physically, but narrow focus informationally, and systematically searching a country for one individual of whom she has the lead of 'part of the church maybe' is way wider in informational scope than she can handle. She doesn't have the network for it.
"Or maybe…" The Detective frowns. "The problem is that I'm treating this like a special request. It is a special request of course, but it could be that I'm using the wrong methodology."
When she does special requests, her job is in some ways simpler. It's always a monster or a supernatural catastrophe. It's a cult or a rogue summoner who has been plotting to bring this around for a while, and been preparing on-location for weeks. She only has to observe, sneak around, poke her nose in a few houses, and take a shot or two before calling in the police. It's pretty contained, and even when it isn't, leads aren't hard to find. A group name, a recognizable spell or monster, a rumor or reputation, she can grab that and run with it until the issue is no more. Even when it's more of a world-ending catastrophe, it's usually pretty simple to get information. If she tracks the catastrophe to ground zero, she's bound to find something. Supernatural catastrophes don't come out of nowhere.
She doesn't have to conduct interviews, she doesn't have to sit at a computer searching through data, she doesn't even have to worry about the legality of her actions because people's lives are on the line and a bit of trespassing, theft, and surveillance abuse is a small price to pay. She always knows exactly what the problem is, and is never at a loss for leads. A quick Google search gives her a solid starting point, and if she's dealing with a catastrophe she can usually rely on the Five Aspects to clue her in.
That's not so for her more regular cases. Her regular cases (identity theft, missing persons, and so on) require a bit more talking, a bit more research, and a bit more consideration for legal avenues. It's not a problem that she can sneak behind or shoot in the face. It looks like a special request, but the methodology needed for progress is that of her mundane cases.
So in other words, she's a dumbass who didn't bother to collect witness reports or at least ask for that info from Her Highness or the guards because she wasn't treating this like a 'real' investigation. She was expecting to need extreme measures when (aside from right at the start) she really should have been using her pen and paper and voice and making an information network and not using her watch and her gun.
Good, she has a proper plan. Now how in Baelz's name is she supposed to look Her Highness in the eye and tell them that she's been accidentally wasting their time for two months?
A tickle of panic wiggles in the back of her mind, though not from fear of conversation this time. This fear is much simpler. Fear of disappointing someone. Fear of being fired. For this time, she can't pretend Her Highness doesn't have a good reason. Failure to properly do her job for two months is much more of an issue than some fumbled conversations or impropriety. This is something Her Highness can't, or at least shouldn't shrug off.
"But I could fix it." The Detective thinks. Her watch sits heavy on its chain around her neck. "I could go back and do my job properly. Her Highness would never know."
That thought sits even worse in her mind, and shame curls around her throat knowing she even considered it.
"Or maybe I could go back in time to do my job properly, but tell them. Like, I go back on day two of working for them, and talk to them on that day about how I fucked up in the future and came back to do it right. They'd be more forgiving of that, right? I made a bit mistake, but they'll never feel the effects of it because I'm canceling it out."
It still feels a bit scummy, but for something as important as this investigation, maybe it can be justified.
"You look like you're thinking hard, Detective."
"If…" The Detective swallows. "Highness, if you realized you'd messed up really badly, but you could solve it, would you?"
Her Highness stills. Her casual lean on the table becomes tense, and her pointer finger slowly scrapes along the tabletop while she thinks. "That's a very broad question, Detective, and if politics has taught me and Ina anything, it's that we should never give a definitive answer to broad questions, because there will always be cases where we're completely wrong and it will be used against us."
"Right." The Detective lowers her eyes to the takodachi which is resting next to her hand and staring up at her with cheerfully fluttering flaps.
"You clearly thought of something important if you're asking that question, Detective. Care to share?" Her Highness prods.
She does care to share. Sharing with Her Highness right now might get her fired, but sharing with past Her Highness might not. But maybe that's selfish. That's not holding herself accountable. That's trying to get around the problem. "I…"
Her Highness leans forward.
"I'll share with you." And she will. She reaches into her shirt and withdraws her watch, twisting the knobs to set it back two months. Her Highness sucks in a breath and freezes completely.
Everything she just established about going back in time is still true, it's still selfish, it's still twisting the situation to her favor, and she still hates it, but the investigation is of national importance. Two months of lost progress is unacceptable.
"Just…"
She can feel Her Highness's eyes burning into the side of her head, and see how their hands are clenched on the table. They know exactly what her bringing out the watch implies.
The Detective's hands quiver on the button, trying to convince herself to push it. "Just…"
"Detective." They say slowly, softly, cautiously, like talking to someone standing on the edge of a bridge. "Talk with me. Don't make a big choice that quickly. Why do you have the watch out?"
"I need to go back." She says, half to herself, half to Her Highness.
"Are you sure about that?"
"I think so."
"Can you talk about it first? When are you jumping to?"
"Two months."
"Why?"
"I need to fix something I did wrong."
"Can you tell me what it is?"
The Detective swallows, eyes fixed on the watch. "If I go back and change things, you won't remember what I tell you."
"So there's no problem in telling me then." Her Highness says. "If I won't remember."
"I'm going to tell you back then anyway. There's no point telling you now."
"Sure there is. Trial run."
"Trial run." The Detective echoes. "That sounds manipulative."
"Going back in time to change something involving me without giving me a say in the matter is pretty manipulative too."
The Detective cringes. "I'm sorry."
"I know. You always are." Her Highness says in a way that is both fond and exasperated. "But this covers both bases, right? You tell me what the deal is, so you're giving me a say, and if I agree, you're not really being manipulative to my past self because I already gave the go-ahead. How about that?"
That does make a certain amount of sense. "I guess so."
"Right." Her Highness says. Their hands relax a bit, unclenching from fists. The Detective still can't bring herself to meet their eyes. "So what's the big problem Detective?"
"I messed up." The Detective says bluntly. "That's why I didn't want to tell you unless I had to."
"Ah…" Her Highness hums. "Well, that doesn't sound too bad."
That gets the Detective to look up, just from the absurdity of the statement. "What!?"
"Detective, the last time you thought you 'messed up' was because you took a day off. A day off I ordered you to take, mind you, but you still thought actually taking it was doing something wrong." Her Highness says with dry humor in her voice. "So excuse me if I doubt this problem is as bad as you're making it sound."
"It is."
"Uh-huh."
"It is!"
"Mmmhmm."
Her Highness isn't taking her seriously. And the Detective realizes this must mean she already can't be trusted. She's a bumbling fool who is suspicious of vacation time, has panic attacks over simple conversations, and threatens to jump back in time and change the past out of nowhere. "So why am I being kept around if I'm a liability then?"
The answer is obvious after only a moment of thought. The watch. Of course. The imperial family isn't going to let such a valuable artifact out of its grasp, no matter how incompetant the hands that wield it. The bigger question is why they haven't tried to take it from her yet.
"Because they're decent people!" The Detective immediately shouts at herself. She can't start doubting the character of the imperial family! That's rude! Also it's probably treason or something!
"Detective? You've gone quiet again."
The Detective flinches to attention. "I'm-"
"-sorry? Yeah, I know." Her Highness hums. "You have a lot going on in your head at all times, don't you?"
"Yes, Highness."
"Right." Her Highness breathes. "Detective."
"Yes?"
"I really hate to say this, but considering it's bothering you to the point of resorting to your watch, and you're falling into an anxiety spiral the longer we beat around the seaweed, and this is still technically a matter of national security, I order you to tell me what the problem is. Immediately. Save your reasonings and context for after."
"I've been using the wrong methodology and have wasted the last two months by not doing the extreme basics of what my job entails. I have failed to conduct interviews and personally analyze the crime scene or other relevant locations, or at the very least ask for that information." The Detective forces out, keeping her eyes on the table. Her hand holds her watch in a white-knuckle grip. "In addition, following my special request methodology, I have conducted several unauthorized surveillance operations and infiltrations of local churches in a search for hints to the identity of the thief, to no success."
Her Highness is quiet, and the Detective feels a part of herself die. There's the crushing feeling of disappointing someone. Disappointing the queen, ruining their day off, because she's not nearly the professional she likes to think she is and-
"Okay, so that's a bit worse than being bad at taking days off." Her Highness admits, drumming her fingers on the table. "That's… hmm…"
She wants to die. Just stab her now.
"Okay, the church matter. That's the second subject I was going to talk to you about anyhow. We would have preferred you cleared it with us first, but the fault doesn't entirely lie with you."
The Detective doesn't see how that is even slightly the case.
"Detective, I'm your employer, right?"
"Right."
"So I'm responsible for your actions."
The Detective curls in on herself. So not only is she ruining her own reputation, she's ruining the crown's.
"Stop that right now." Her Highness scolds. "Look at me, Detective."
She forces her eyes up. Her Highness, somehow, doesn't look mad. If anything, her expression is thoughtful.
"I'm your employer, and part of this failure is mine. I never gave you clear instructions, I made the choice to let you do your own thing."
The Detective opens her mouth to argue, but Her Highness holds up a hand to silence her.
"And," they say, "I can't pretend I didn't know your methods. You told us that story at dinner, very clearly outlining how you snuck onto private property, spied on people, got into a gunfight, and then called the police. I knew your methods, but I made no effort to ensure you wouldn't act that way in the future. That fault lies with me. I hired you on those terms, and never bothered to change them."
"Your Highness, I should have known better."
"Should you? This is a matter of national security, and I can guarantee I have both greenlit and conducted far more morally bankrupt actions than a bit of sneaking around for the sake of keeping the Empire safe. You had every reason to assume, given the severity of this issue, that somewhat drastic measures were valid." Her Highness says. "And as your employer, it is my duty to ensure you know what is acceptable on the job and what isn't."
"But- but-" The Detective gapes. It still feels like they're making excuses for her.
"Not 'buts' detective." Her Highness clicks her tongue. "This one's on me. No one was hurt. Let it go."
"I…" The Detective doesn't know what to say. All that worry she had just built up for nothing? A 'oh, that's on me' and not even a slap on the wrist. She stares helplessly at Her Highness.
"I think I can help your lack of interviews and stuff too." Her Highness says after a moment. "I haven't exactly kept on top of all the investigative details myself. Got an empire to run you know? So it wouldn't be unusual if I requested what Captain Dyne learned a few months after the fact because I know his boys did interviews, and it wouldn't be all that unusual if I went to talk to my specially hired detective about them, and just maybe, accidentally, left a copy of those interview reports in her office."
She can hardly believe what she's hearing. Not only is she not getting in trouble for messing up, Her Highness is actively covering for her. "Th-Thank you Your Highness."
"No idea why you're thanking me Detective." Her Highness winks, and Amelia's heart skips a beat. She hopes she isn't blushing. She's had too much excitement today already. "Going over reports with my detective is totally normal and not at all a cover for our mutual mistakes."
She, very cautiously, smiles back.
"Now, with all that out of the way." Her Highness says, and points at the Detective. "You, Amelia H. Watson, are taking a week off."
The Detective blinks. "I-I am?"
"You spent the last week sneaking around churches, which isn't counting extra time from all the time travel you did, and nearly resorted to jumping into the past because you were blaming yourself for a mistake that was only partially your fault, spent five minutes trembling like a leaf for the same reason, and I know for a fact you haven't taken any more days off after that one I ordered you to take." Her Highness says bluntly. "So, Detective, I say this with the utmost respect, you are taking a week off to calm the fuck down because I'm seriously worried you're going to have a heart attack if I compliment you the wrong way."
She ducks her head in mortification. "U-Understood."
"Good. A few things before you go then." Her Highness says. "First, I need to apologize. You were obviously panicked about this whole methodology business, but when you told me you thought you'd done something wrong, I didn't take you seriously and assumed you were being irrational. That was entirely unacceptable from me given the situation."
"I was being irrational."
"No, you weren't. And even if you were, you were prepared to take drastic steps and I tried to brush it off. Even if you were irrational, it was still causing you distress." Her Highness says firmly. "Detective, I want to be someone you can trust and can feel free to speak your mind around. I didn't act that way today. Speaking of, in the future, I want you to speak to me or Ina when you have concerns, or even just to clarify things. I don't want any more miscommunications or near-misses like today."
"I-Is that an order?" The Detective asks nervously.
"No." Her Highness says curtly. "We want your trust, Detective, not just your loyalty."
Ah.
"Also, I'll have new orders for you when you come back from vacation, as well as a proper job description and rules for action." Her Highness says. "I've been lax, treating you less as an employee and more as a co-worker, and while that was perhaps acceptable when the situation was more contained and you were being hired on a personal basis, that is no longer the case. When you return, if you still wish to accept the new contract I will present, you will be an employee of the Empire."
"Understood." Those words, far from intimidating her, feel reassuring. It will be nice to finally have some direction after fumbling around in the dark for two months.
"Good. Now go back to your apartment, or home, or whatever you feel like. I better not hear you stuck around for more than an hour." Her Highness says, then smirks. "Unless you want to join me in the pool?"
"I'M GOOD." Amelia says, maybe a bit too loudly.
"No, you're not, that's why you're leaving." Her Highness jokes. She flicks a hand at her, eyes twinkling in amusement. "Shoo."
Amelia skitters out of the room and down the stairs to her office, and spends the next hour compiling a simple report about all the churches she infiltrated which she sends to Her Highness (she'd go more in depth if she didn't know Her Highness was serious about her not being here in an hour). She then steps out of the palace, grabs her stuff from her hotel room, and hops on the first train back to home.
She doesn't even know what she's going to do for a week, but she can at least feel assured that when she comes back she'll have direction.
With any luck, she won't spend the next week thinking about how Her Highness outright said they were flirting with her, or how nice they look with their hair down and water sparkling on their body and those firm muscles and-
Baelz help her. If she can't stop ogling her bosses, she's going to get herself killed. She's sure of it.
A coo breaks her out of thoughts, and she stares blankly at the takodachi that settles itself in her lap. She didn't realize it had followed her.
Well, she guesses she has a pet now. Maybe it can help take the edge off.
"Are you a boy or a girl?" She asks. "Do takodachies even have gender?"
The takodachi nuzzles her hand. She absently starts stroking its head.
"I'm going to call you Bubba." She tells the takodachi. "I'm going to call you a boy unless you tell me otherwise, because I don't want to think of you as 'it'."
Bubba happily flutters his flaps, totally indifferent. She pets him all the way back to her home stop.
Fun fact: the first draft of this chapter had Amelia suffering a full-blown panic attack from Gura flirting with her. Decided that was a bit much and retooled it. Amelia is an emotional wreck, yes, but it will take a bit more than some flirting to get her to break (and even if she breaks I think she's more of a runner than someone who would freeze. She freezes up before she breaks, not after).