Ask Me No Questions, Yada, Yada...

It had been a few hours now since Michael had delivered Robert home after his narrow shave.  Michael hadn't slept, but he didn't really need it. He was running on adrenalin.  He had been upstairs in the Ministry, gotten what he'd needed, and now was on his way out, with an old, battered, black leather messenger bag slung on his shoulder.

Damned bag. It was a totally different sort of nuisance.  Made the Monsters Book of Monsters truly childsplay.  The bag was illtempered, vicious, and noisy.  Provoked, the bag shrieked, screamed, cussed worse than a platoon of sailors, and bit.  More like chewed and gnawed anything in radius if it were irked enough.  Michael was accustomed to hinky, enchanted magical items, but this one was annoying.  He had tried Hagrid's old trick of petting the thing, as they'd had to do with the textbook, it rattled off some rather leud accusations.  To shut it up, he shoved a pastry from the atrium cafe at it, and suprisingly enough, sweets seemed to appease the naughty old bag. Was that new sound a soft purr, perhaps?

He wondered where the pastry crumbs were actually going, but on the other hand, he really didn't want to know when it came right down to it.  He sat down at a table in the atrium cafe, with a morning newspaper, a plate of pastries, and some tea in a paper cup.  The pastry gone, the bag started to grumble and snort at him. 

"Here," he said, shoving another pastry at it. "Eat it, and shut up." The bag snarfed up the pastry, nipping him in the process.  "Rude," he sighed.  He drew out his cigarette case from his jacket, got a cigarette from it, lit it, and savored the first good drag off it before taking a sip of the tea.  

He knew he didn't have to answer anyone's questions, but he expected that sooner or later, they would come.  He hoped he was braced for them. He sat calmly, enjoying the cigarette that was probably the calm before the storm. Michael always listened to reason, but he rarely defended himself.  He rarely felt he needed it.  

He read the headlines of the paper. No mention of last night's antics. Well, they were entitled to be a day late and a galleon short from time to time.  Maybe he had time to enjoy a cuppa tea before they caught up with him--all the whoevers who might be hunting him while he hunted Swan. This was his way of giving them their one and only sporting chance.

Jack had been searching since the Order meeting. She and James had decided it would be better done if they split up. She had old Potter's Army coins she carried in her knapsack and she gave him one - whoever found Michael would communicate via the coins. An address would be enough.

She had gotten a bit tired but had no desire to quit the search. Her motivation was less out of respect for Swan's rights and more out of concern for her friend. He was conscientious and once the fury subsided, there was no way he would be happy with being the murderer of a young woman. Furthermore, she really did not want to see him sent to Azkaban. Regardless of Swan's crimes, vigilante murder meant consequences.

She had stopped home to get an energy potion, to check in with Max and the kids, and send an owl to Kip for him to keep the look out. She knew that he would send it out to his friends and the Knight's Watch and somebody, somebody, would spot him. She changed into better stalking clothes and headed out for Knockturn Alley.

She got the owl just as she had cleared Knockturn. Michael had been seen headed into the Ministry. She immediately apparated there and headed in, flashing her clearance badge as she passed by security.

She passed the cafe and had to skid to a halt. She backed up and looked inside - of course. He was enjoying a read and a tea before the hunt. She let out a breath and turned, heading in. Her hand plunged into her pocket and worked the coin, setting the address for the Ministry. James would be there soon, she was sure.

She dropped into the empty seat, and sighed. "Big plans?"

He watched her drop the coin on the table.  Little things with Jack were everything sometimes. He cast her a bit of an all-too-calm smile.

"No plans whatsoever, my dear," he replied.  "Just business as usual. Tea?" He motioned to the clerk for another tea.

"More pastries, too, Mr. Tremaine? Your bag seems to be extra hungry today," the perky little clerk asked in a flirting tone. Michael ignored the flirting. She looked young enough to be his granddaughter, and he wasn't desperate. He had robbed a great many things, but cradles were not among them.

"The bag is a pain in the...oh nevermind. If its eating pastries its not biting me.  Fine," he agreed, tossing a few galleons on the table.  The bag snarled at Michael and bit him.  Michael figured the bag had its namesake's terrible personality too.  "Ouch! Oh, we're going to get along splendidly, I can tell," he sighed, shaking the sting from his finger. The clerk brought another paper cup of tea and a plate of pastries and Michael pushed the coins at her, and, glancing deliberately at Jack, he made no movement towards the coin she'd laid on the table.

"Put you in charge of the posse, did they?" he took a sip of his tea, looking at Jack, intending fully to be civil. Had it been anyone else, being civil might have been considerably more difficult. "Good choice. Might have done it myself if I'd given it thought.  Jack, you know my job.  Its the same as yours. Protect England, beyond all else. Protect the Ministry and the Minister. There's a reason why no one talks about what we do, and there's a reason why we do what we do.  I am fully entitled to hunt down any suspect that the Ministry is hunting for, and you know it. If I can take her alive, then lovely. If not, she still has to be stopped.


"I did my duty to the Order and I was blown off by country club bon vivants. They aren't warriors anymore.  They don't have one bloody clue what it means, what it ever meant.  Sirius and Albus and Remus would be ashamed of what its become.  Ah, well, all good things must come to an end, mustn't they? I warned them, and if they don't listen to the voice of experience, they deserve what they get. Flat out. If they think they can protect the greater good with no more gonads than I saw last night, then they're a bloody big waste.

"But I will protect my country and stay to my mission.  You can either stand with me or at least get out of my way.  You know me. If I didn't want you to find this morning, you wouldn't have.  

"Still, it amuses the hell out of me that everyone thinks I've gone off half cocked.  Just because I understand crazy doesn't mean I am crazy."

Jack looked up as the waitress approached. "And a black tea for me. Please, no sugar." She needed something strong. The energy potion had kicked in, but some natural caffeine couldn't hurt the cause either. And there was something about a tea that just seemed to jumpstart the mind, keep the gears a-turning.

The woman seemed less thrilled to be serving Jack than she was to be serving Michael. She supposed the waitress had been there the time she had shouted "food fight!" to see what happened. People in the service industry tended to have extraordinary memories. Jack dropped her payment into the pile of coins and received her flimsy cup of tea with a nod and a grimace to the waitress, who kept her eyes on Michael.

Jack turned, considering making a comment on his bag. The Lupin clan and their affiliates just couldn't have normal things - her footstool Mongo was proof enough of that. But before she could, he spoke. She figured James would get here soon, and before Michael felt too ganged up on, she could see what help she could be.

So she let him speak. Let him say everything. The problem with the Order was everyone wanted to step over each other so they could spout their ideologies, so Jack let her friend speak. When it came her time, she was ready.

"Why do you think I haven't been to an Order meeting in months?" Jack said, grinning. "Trust me, if anyone feels you on the point of our apathy as an organisation, it's me. I miss a good ol' fight. I never thought I'd miss a battle, but we might need one." She paused. "That said, one thing we all must agree is that our job is to minimize casualties. I don't think Robert's still in danger. Should he walk down darkened allies while she's out and about - no. But Swan has to know she made an idiotic mistake. We will find her. We don't need to do it with the option of killing her."

She sighed, relaxing a bit into her chair. "If you want her dead, just let the Death Eaters get to her. I'm sure they are irked that one of 'ours' is doing their job. They'll want to make a point. She may come to us for protection, if we put it out there. Protection can be a cell." She tipped her head thoughtfully. "She did something stupid, but she's not. If we find her and remind her she's safer with us than with the Death Eaters, she should come. You know I want to stand with you, and I always have. But I won't let you kill her. You're too valuable to lose to Azkaban. Especially over her."

Azkaban. Pfft.  The thought kneejerked him to want to laugh when, for others, it would have struck hard core terror into them.  Michael had a couple of cards up his sleeve there that most others didn't, so he met Jack's concern with a simple nod of understanding and a genuine appreciation that someone cared about his wellbeing.  She had made her point and done it well. He intended his proverbial cards to remain in his hand for now.  It was safer for everyone that way.

However, he was sure Jack would already know Michael didn't do jail. That just wasn't going to happen.  Not even Azkaban.  People with no skills in breaking and entering seemed to have very little issue in getting out when they tired of socializing with the dementors.  With Michael's skills, he figured he had a better than average chance of not being kept anywhere he didn't want to be any longer than he wanted to be there.

"I appreciate the concern," he said. "I do, really. But ask yourself. What wouldn't you do, what risk wouldn't you take to protect your family? This is the only kind of family I have left, Jack, and it very nearly killed him. I can't just walk away."

He looked at her, shrugged, and said with an amused grin, "Besides, I don't do jail. Its against my general wellbeing."

"Look, I don't know Swan from Adam's housecat. I'd recognize her face now, I'm sure.  But you're probably a much better judge of her character than I am.  What I know is that what she did was dangerous and not very level headed.  So, I don't know if she's just dangerous, or a nut, or a dangerous nut.  I do know she has to be stopped, and that's my job. Its not just a personal vendetta. Its my assignment. I'm getting paid to stop her, somehow.  And, you know how much I can't reveal about how legal my task is or who I work for or who pays me to do it.  I don't have an issue with telling people I'm hunting Swan, but I can't tell anyone anything else."

"If you want to come along, then fine.  But Swan's time for running free is running out."

Jack smiled a bit at his words. Michael was one of those people she always wished she spent more time with when she finally got time with him, but their lives seemed to prevent more overlap than there already was. "My family would also ask me if any death was justified. It's not a question I know the answer to yet, but it'd be hard to look at my niece again." She knew just thinking of Vito's victims made it hard for her to feel at ease at home, as though she were undeserving of any domestic comfort because of blood shed in part by her.

Jack knew Michael well enough to know she would not dissuade him, not when he thought it could save his family. There was no turning back. Her hopes had been to at least plant a seed in his mind. He wouldn't want to disappoint her, and she hoped that the discussion was enough to ensure he would exercise restraint in his chase. There was also the hope that...

And there it was.

An invitation to join. And despite lack of sleep, her worried family, and other matters that needed attending, it was with no hesitation that Jack said, "Absolutely I'll come with you." If she was there, she felt like she was that much more likely to ensure Swan was taken in, rather than taken out. She knew James was on his way, but they might not get much more time with Michael to negotiate. This was a great deal.

He looked up at the clock in the atrium. If more of her posse were coming, their timing truly sucked, but the tea was decent, so he wasn't in a hurry. He'd give them more time. He took another sip of the tea, slower this time, more thoughtful.

"I don't know if I ever told you, but I did have a brother. John.  He'd be 53 now, if he's still alive. Got no clue.  I was older, so I was the breadwinner. Well, breadstealer, back then. Practice anything long enough though, and someone finds a use for you.

"I was headed straight for a very dead end when I started at Hogwarts. Almost all my memories of my first year are memories of detention. Grades weren't the issue.  I was pissed off at life and how alone I'd been. 

"So, I come back to the house common room late one night, being in detention again for doing something foul to Horace Slughorn.  And in the common room is this geeky lad, another first year, who's sitting there, playing chess by himself.  And, because he has all the personality of a cardboard box, I start mucking with his game, hoping to get a rise out of him.  He doesn't say a word, just keeps playing. Cleans my clock, then looks up at me and tells me without so much as cracking a smile that I'm alright by him, I'm just an arsehat, as if he pities me that I surely can't help being an arsehat.

"And, at that point in my life, he was right. You probably can guess most of the rest. Our circle of friends was the only sense of family I had from that point on.  We took care of each other, and we grounded one another.

"If Swan had struck out at me, I'd have pish toshed it.  Doesn't work that way when its someone I care about.  But I know you understand that part all too well.

"I will try to take Swan alive.  If I have no choice, though, if it goes sideways, I will not let her do something stupid a second time. If we end up with other tagalongs in this search, I do hope you won't let them get a bit trigger happy to take out the weird old guy with the ugly old bag that snarls and bites.  Which incidently isn't my bag anyway. I do need to get rid of it before I do much else."

He had a new thought. "I wonder if this bag eats newspaper."  He handed down the newspaper towards the bag, which made a sort of slurping vacumming noise and sucked up the newspaper and then belched. 

Annoyed, he looked back at Jack. "How did you ever do the Magical Creatures department?  He does this sort of thing on purpose because he knows it annoys the shit out of me. But--I will get him back. I do have his boggart, after all.  But this time, I'm going to have to up my game and outprank him once and for all. If you're bored sometime and interested in causing some mischief and chaos just for practice, just say the word. I love an accomplice that can be creative on the fly."