I do not own Dresden Files, and I do not own Angel the Series, or Buffy the Vampire SlayerAuthor's Note:
Unforgivable delay is unforgivable, I know. I blame papers and the Thanksgiving Holiday.Tales from Oracle Securities
Chapter 3: Arrested, Again?Harry Dresden's Apartment, Chicago
12:35 pm, June 24th, 2003
Faith cursed a few dozen more times in her head as the cop kept pointing the gun at her.
“Now!” Murphy demanded. “It was not
“Look, officer-” Faith started.
.” Murphy interrupted, correcting her.
Faith bit back a smartass remark. “Fine. Detective, then. The point is, I have no idea what you're talking about-”
“Bullshit.” The detective interrupted again, keeping her gun still aimed at Faith.
“I don't know what you think I did-”
“Two counts of homicide, a dozen of assault and you broke out of prison. Sound familiar? Get down on your knees and put your hands on your head.” She repeated.Well Fuck.
She had thought that Giles had arranged to have the charges dropped. Not yet...damnit, damnit, damnit.
It hadn't been that long since English had gone to the mother country. Maybe he had to have access to all the Council's stuff before he could do it then...
She had a few options, none of them particularly appealing. She could easily knock the gun out of the detective's hands, knock her to the ground and cuff her to her own car with her handcuffs. On the upside, no going to prison. On the down side, she'd get more cops coming after her, which would just make her life harder, since she didn't want to hurt any more cops than she had to. And she was just trying to get on with her life.
The other option, of course, was to go along with her and go to prison, at least for a little while, until Giles could arrange to get her out of prison.
She was going to regret this. Hell. I already am.
Faith raised her hands up, slowly. “I'm going to reach into my pocket, grab my phone, and call my boss so he can get me a lawyer. So don't shoot.”
“Take it out slowly.” Murphy said. “Very slowly.”
“That's what I was planning on doing, Detective.” Faith took her phone out of her coat pocket and dialed Giles's cell phone number quickly.
It rang a few times on his end, then she heard him pick up, and a moment later, his voice came through. “Hello, Faith? What is it?”
“Hey Giles.” Faith said, faking chipper in her voice for a moment, then, “Well, I'm here in Chicago, since Buffy sent me here, and I've got a Detective pointing a gun at me saying that I'm under arrest.”
She heard, on the other end of the line, Giles sigh. “What did you do this time, Faith?”
“Hey!” Faith protested. “I didn't do anything. They just want to arrest me.”
“Oh. Yes. That. Your...previous warrants.” Now Giles gets it?
“Yes...well...I apologize for that...I was going to see to your...situation tomorrow...”
“Well, its a little too late for that now, isn't it, Giles?” Faith snarked at him.
“Quite.” He replied, then, “I do hope you're not planning to assault-”
“No, I'm not. I'm going to be a good little citizen and go along quietly. Just make sure I get a good lawyer. And-”
“Yes, I'll get the charges dropped. The council has plenty of pull. And I'll see to it that you get a good lawyer.”
“Good.” Faith said, annoyance still clear in her voice. “Oh, and Giles?”
“Don't mention this to Buffy.”
“Not a word, Faith.” Giles promised, sighing.
Without another word herself, Faith hung up her cell phone and slowly put it back in her pocket. She dropped to her knees and put her hands behind her head. “Alright lady-cop. Let's get this over with.”
Karrin Murphy hissed in annoyance, but didn't correct her. She lowered her gun just a little and approached Faith, handcuffs in hand. “Faith Lehane, you're under arrest.” She cuffed Faith's wrists together behind her back and pulled her to her feet. “You have the right to remain-”
“Don't I at least get to know your name before you take me in?”
Murphy frowned at her, annoyed. “My name is Karrin Murphy.”
“Great. Murphy's law really does exist.” Faith said, half-humorlessly. Xander had used the phrase a lot during the build up to the battle with the First. Eventually, she'd had to ask him what he'd meant by it. Sometimes, it really did describe her life.
Murphy clenched her teeth and started the Miranda reading again. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have a right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided to you....”Wyndam-Pryce Estate, One Hour Northwest of London
6:38 pm, June 24th, 2003
Giles hung up the phone and set it on the table, then looked across the desk he was sitting at to Wesley. When he'd come to England to sort out the mountains of paperwork he had to deal with regarding his assuming leadership of the Council – what was left of it – he'd expected to make some interesting discoveries. Some of the places the Council had hidden its money – and he'd gotten nowhere near finding all of it – were somewhere between absurd and unbelievable.
One of the things he hadn't expected was that he'd be face to face with Wesley to sort out Roger Wyndam-Pryce's will. As the head of the Watcher's Council, the will of the late Wyndam-Pryce required that he serve as the primary executor for certain Watcher-related items and provisions. Some of Roger's possessions were being given to the Council, other, nonmagical ones to certain museums and private collections, et cetera.
“Faith has gotten herself arrested? Again?” Wesley asked cooly, raising one eyebrow.
“It isn't polite to eavesdrop on the conversations of others, Wesley.” Giles admonished him uselessly. Then he sighed. “She has. In Chicago, no less.”
“My city?” Wesley asked, unknowingly echoing a sentiment said in various forms by Harry Dresden several times.
“Chicago is no more your city than any other one person's.” Giles replied, sharply.
“What did she do?”
“Nothing, she claims. Most likely, someone recognized her. She's a wanted a woman.”
“I thought you were going to arrange to have that taken care of.” Wesley replied. “Would seem like common sense, anyone.”
“I was planning
on getting to it tomorrow.” He pushed several stapled pages over to Wesley. “Read over that. It should cover everything that needs to be handled with your father's will.” He changed topic without any subtlety.
Wesley took the papers and read over them while Giles picked his phone up and made another call. The British Government had an official liaison with the Council.
“Hello?” The man on the other end of the line asked after one ring.
“Hello, Alexander?” Giles asked.
“Rupert Giles? Ah, excellent. So all the paperwork is sorted out, then? You're formally head of the Council?”
“I am.” Giles replied.
“That is good news. The Prime Minister shall be relieved to find out you have things sorted out.”
“Not entirely sorted, unfortunately. But we're making significant progress.” Giles said. “But that's not the reason I've called. One of the Slayers has been arrested in the United States. She has....outstanding warrants. They need to be dealt with.”
“You'll want to talk to the Americans, then. If I recall correctly, Presidential Pardons for Council personnel are par for the course, and included in the agreement you lot made with the Americans in 1790.”
“So I'll just place a call into the Oval Office, then?” Giles asked, sarcasm intruding. “I'm sure that will work.”
“No. You'll want to call the head of their Paranormal and Supernatural Crimes Unit.” Alexander said.
“Their what? They have a -”
“They do.” The liaison answered. “As I understand it, the Council never really liked the Americans having that little organization. Travers probably never told anyone. They're the official liaisons between the President and the Council, among their other duties.”
“I was under the impression the Initiative was disbanded-”
“It was.” Alexander said. “The complete failure of the Initiative's operation in Sunnydale gave the PSCU the grounds it needed to take back sole authority over the supernatural in the United States. They were very critical of the idea from the beginning, but some generals with too much clout and not enough brains, as well as some overly paranoid spooks cobbled the Initiative together and convinced the President it was a good idea. A lot of heads rolled after the project ended.”
“Well. That is good. How do I get-”
Alexander gave Giles a number. “That's a direct line to their leader, Janice Tyler. Tell her who your Slayer is, where she's been arrested and all that, and she'll arrange for the President to issue a pardon.”
“Alright. Very good. I'm sure we'll speak again soon, Alexander.”
“I'm sure we will, Rupert.” Giles hung up the phone. He looked over at Wesley, who had finished the paperwork.
“Give me a moment, Wesley.” He dialed the number Alexander gave him.
“Hello?” An elderly female voice said on the other end of the line. “Who is this?”
“This is Rupert Giles. Head of the Watchers Council.”
“Ah yes...the Watchers. I was wondering if you lot would ever recover from what happened last year.” She sounded...disappointed.
“We did. I'm calling because I'm told you can arrange a pardon for one of my Slayers-”
“One of? Isn't there only supposed to be one?”
“Until recently, yes. Surely you've heard about the new developments by now.”
“I dismissed them as impossible.” She admitted.
“Understandable. But it is very true. And this one has managed to get herself in a spot of legal trouble. Which is what I need corrected.”
“Who is it, and what did she do?”
“Faith Lehane.” He gave her the list of her charges. “She is quite innocent of all the charges, save for the breaking out of prison.”
“Mhm.” Janice Tyler said. “And yet it says here she confessed at her trial.”
“Demonic influence. You'll notice the hand of Wolfram and Hart was all over those proceedings.”
“I see.” She didn't seem like she completely believed him. “I'll call the President.”
“Excellent. Thank you.”
“Don't thank me. I'm just doing my job.” She hung up on him.
“That's going to raise questions, don't you think?” Wesley asked. “A presidential pardon?”
“Everything we do raises questions. Speaking of, I need to hire Lindsey McDonald.”
“You want to hire a lawyer from my firm to defend Faith?”
“Just to keep the police off her back while the Pardon goes through its process. Its not as if the Watchers Council can't pay.”
.” Wesley clarified. “I may have made use of her when handling the Red Court, but I have no interest in helping-” Giles named a sum. Wesley paused mid-tirade and blinked a moment. “That much?”
Wesley pulled out his phone and called Lindsey.