Title: "Playing With Fire Part Eight"
Author: Rebecca Bradstreet
Rated: PG-13
Archive: Sure.
Summary: Becca has a plan to stop the killer.
Warning: Darkness, and death.
Disclaimer/Notes: This is a Profiler/Anita Blake Vampire Hunter Crossover. I don't own John Grant, or any other Profiler character. I don't own Jean-Claude, or any other Anitaverse character. I do own Rebecca Belinda "Becca" Drake. She is a dragon version of me. I've included the end of Part Seven at the beginning of this part inside <<>>. I use // for thoughts, and ** as emphasis. This isn't beta'd so all mistakes are my own. ;)
"Playing With Fire Part Eight"
Rebecca Bradstreet (c) 2002St Louis
Headquarters of the Regional Preternatural Investigation Team
Detective Sergeant Rudolph Storr's Office
Sunday Feb 25, 2001<<"You're welcome," Bailey patted Dolph on the shoulder, and left him with his copy of the fax.>>
Hotel
Bailey's RoomMalone opened the door to his room. Drake was sitting on the couch staring at a piece of paper in her hands. Bailey called to her, "Chinese?"
Becca shook herself, and nodded to him, "You're not trying to turn me into Chinese food are you?"
"I could've brought pizza. What are you looking at?" He moved to get a better look at what she held.
"Follow up fax," she answered, setting the piece of paper down on the table in front of her.
"Follow up? What did George and Reynolds have to add?" Bailey asked, going to sit in his chair.
"Do you want the bad news first, or a *really* bad idea?" Drake offered him the choice as he sat down.
"Bad idea?" Malone said, handing her some of the take-out.
"Yeah...to fully appreciate it though you really need to hear the bad news first," Becca explained, putting her take-out on top of the fax.
"Give me the bad news," Bailey told her.
"Our perp used *himself* as his human sacrifice in his summoning ritual. We can't just do a reverse of it. Death magic isn't exactly something you can do in reverse," she informed him grimly.
"And the *really* bad idea?" He asked warily.
"We can't just do a reverse of his ritual, but we might be able to do an approximation of it with me as the sacrifice," Becca told him emptily.
"You're right *that* is a really bad idea," Bailey shook his head.
"We wouldn't be killing me, not permanently. We'd just be stopping my heart. Of course that isn't even the *really* bad part of the idea. The really bad part is it would still require a human participant. A human being would have to kill me," Drake looked at Malone.
Bailey shook his head again, "Have you run this really bad idea by anyone else?"
"No. I can't see Detective Tammy Reynolds killing me, or if she can I don't want to know it. I'm not sure if I'm grateful John is still in the hospital or sorry. 'Love, I know we haven't known each other very long, but could you do me the *little* favor of killing me.' Okay, I'm glad we don't have to have *that* conversation," Becca shook her head, and sighed unhappily.
"John and Detective Reynolds are out. Any other possibilities?" He asked.
She wasn't sure if Bailey was beginning to consider the idea, or just worried she'd thought of it, "If anyone knew where Anita Blake was I'd say she was a possibility. I might not know her well enough to accuse her of being a killer to her face, but she's got a record of killing more than just vampires."
"She's not here. Anyone else?" Malone continued to push.
"Dolph, he doesn't seem to like me much. You. If we just do the perp's ritual over his ground, the human doesn't have to have magic just the will to kill me," Becca told him with a fatalistic grin.
"You're up to a third trip to the warehouse?" Bailey asked, dodging the thought of killing Drake.
"Those 'they say' people say the third time is the charm," Becca answered him.
"If *we* are going to do this, how much preparation do *we* need?" Malone gave her a resigned smile.
"A fair amount. Not so much to reenact the ritual, but we have to get into the warehouse *and* we have to be prepared to arrest the perp. Those will require telling Dolph something," she cautioned him.
"I thought you said the perp used himself as his human sacrifice. How exactly are we going to arrest a dead perp?" Bailey questioned.
"Oh, that's where he botched it. If he were dead we'd just have a rampaging salamander on our hands. We might want to have some paramedics around, but he isn't more than mostly dead," Becca promised him.
"I guess I need to talk to Dolph. Can we do this tonight?" Malone asked.
"We might be able to, but I think we should wait until daylight. Doing it during the day might not be the most faithful recreation of the ritual, but I'm not dying for this guy at midnight," Drake shook her head fiercely.
"I'll talk to Dolph about doing something at the warehouse tomorrow. What are you going to do with the afternoon?" Bailey wondered.
"That's a good question. I could go visit John, or I could get some sleep. I'll have to visit the Master of the City later. Even if we do the ritual at noon, doing it without a witch will likely get some people's attention. Jean-Claude is the closest I can get to warning those people directly," Becca told him.
"You're going to go visit John aren't you?" He grinned.
"Who needs sleep? But I'm not telling him about this and neither are you, Bailey, not yet. Once we've got the perp John can get the story of how. One of us should be blissfully ignorant about tomorrow," she got up to go.
"Becca...don't be surprised if you can't keep this from him," Bailey warned her.
"I won't," Drake answered him as she went out the door.
Hospital
John's RoomBecca stopped for a moment in the doorway to look at John. He seemed to be getting better -- stronger -- back to the agent that had stood so tall and so hesitant on her doorstep, //How many days ago was that? It feels like a lifetime.//
"Hey. Can't resist hospital food?" John smiled at her. She looked so tired. Even if he didn't know her true age he could almost guess it looking at her in the doorway. Something had Becca feeling 4,000 years old.
"Can't resist someone," she corrected, coming in and giving him a quick kiss.
"Case going slowly?" He asked as she dropped into her chair.
"Headed for the last round up actually," she answered dully.
"The last round up. The ritual remains were a big break hu?" John wondered why she wasn't pleased.
"A big one. John...we're going to *try* to catch the perp tomorrow," Becca told him, struggling not to tell him everything.
"Try?" He took one of her hands in his, and gave it a squeeze.
She held on tight to his hand, and closed her eyes, "I...we..."
John touched her hair with his free hand, "What is it Becca?"
She let it tumble out of her, not looking at him, "I'm going to *die* tomorrow. Bailey is going to kill me *literally*. *Not* permanently, but..."
"But it'll still hurt?" He recalled how she'd told him she was safer using a seat belt.
Becca looked at him then. She looked in his sky blue eyes, and saw love and understanding, "Oh John!"
"I know. I love you too," he smiled at her reassuringly.
Becca shook her head. Bailey had warned her not to be surprised when she told John everything. She'd told him she wouldn't be. It'd been a lie. She was surprised, and relieved, and horribly terribly in love. Becca leaned in and kissed John fiercely.
"Trying to confuse me?" He asked when she leaned back.
"What?" She asked puzzled.
"You give me a disbelieving head shake then kiss me. You know I love you too don't you?" John questioned.
"I know you love me...it's just...you are amazing John Grant," Becca told him, her voice full of warm wonder.
"Yeah...well...you are beautiful Becca Drake," he leaned towards her, and they kissed again.
"Going to have some hospital food?" John smiled at her as he rested his head once more on his pillow.
"I ought to. I kind of skipped lunch coming here, and I have to meet with Jean-Claude tonight," Becca admitted.
"Meet with Jean-Claude?" He repeated.
"Bailey's killing me is going to be kind of hard for some people to miss. The Master of the City can tell them to ignore it," she sighed then continued, "we'll do it during the day to disturb the least number of sensitives. We wouldn't want my demise to bother too many of them."
"You *will* be okay," John said hesitantly.
Becca smiled at him reassuringly, "I'll be okay. What's on the menu today?"
Circus of the Damned
"Good evening, ma flammeche," the Master of the City smiled at Drake as she walked into his office. When he saw the look on Becca's face he said, "Or perhaps not?"
"The evening is good Jean-Claude. It's tomorrow we need to talk about," she informed him, glancing at the other people in his office.
"Ah," he nodded to her and gestured for everyone else to clear the room.
When the room was empty Becca sat down and told him, "Sometime tomorrow morning Bailey Malone will kill me dead, briefly. Being good guys we can't do death magic that actually results in a permanent death. A little impermanent death however..."
"Ma flammeche, I think perhaps you should tell me how these things came to be on your schedule for tomorrow," Jean-Claude gave her a look both serious and concerned.
"A sorcerer tried to call up a salamander by death magic using himself as the human sacrifice. He failed to die before the salamander answered his call, and they merged into the killer currently ravaging St Louis. Bailey is going to be the sacrificer and I'm going the sacrificey in an attempt to summon up the salamander-sorcerer, separate the two, and return the salamander to it's proper plain of existence," Drake explained to him grimly.
"Have you considered the possibility that being killed as part of a death ritual might be permanently fatal to you when it might not be otherwise?" The Master of the City asked gravely.
"Yeah, the thought has crossed my mind. I just can't think of a better way. The ritual calls for a human sacrifice. I can mimic human while being something else. Playing human sacrifice might be fatal for me, it might not work at all, but we have to try something. We can't just let it keep killing," Becca answered him bluntly.
"Becca," Jean-Claude shook his head, "Becca have you informed Malone that he may kill you permanently tomorrow?"
"No. I haven't admitted the possibility of it not working at all to him either. Jean-Claude, I didn't pitch it to him as *the best* idea. I pitched it to him as *the only* idea. It is the only one I've got. If you've got a few feel free to share them. I'm not all hot to die tomorrow, but John was nearly killed *looking* for this thing. *I* have to be willing to *risk* my life to catch it," Drake told him starkly.
"I am truly afraid that I don't have any other ideas to offer. It is a terrible burden you have set upon yourself, Becca. Did you come here merely to tell me of this path you have set yourself on, or did you come to do something more?" The Master of the City asked his voice full of sorrow.
"I didn't come here just to depress you," Becca grinned at him apologetically, "I came to ask you to quietly warn those who'll notice something tomorrow that it's FBI business."
"That I most certainly can do for you ma flammeche," Jean-Claude gave her a reassuring smile.
Drake got up, and crossed the room to the Master of the City's desk. Becca put her arms around his shoulders, then squeezed them gently, "Don't worry Jean-Claude I won't give up the ghost tomorrow without a fight. In 4,000 years I haven't had a better reason to stay alive, John loves me."
"And you love him very much," Jean-Claude rubbed one of her arms, "It may amuse you to hear me say it ma flammeche, but I believe if anything will see you through tomorrow it is that."
Becca laughed, and for once it was the Master of the City that wished he could bottle her laugh, "Is Agent Malone waiting up for you at the hotel?"
"Probably, Bailey was supposed to talk to Dolph about our having access to the warehouse tomorrow. He'll want to tell me how his meeting went, and he'll want to hear how my meeting with you went," Drake let go of Jean-Claude, and moved towards the door.
"I trust you will tell him our meeting went well?" The Master of the City asked, his voice once more bland.
"You can rely on it Jean-Claude," Becca promised him as she went out the door.