Archive of Our Own ^beta

The guard looks up at the bank of security monitors as the unmarked black car approaches the Bureau's gates. It's not the first late arrival of the evening. That part she could deal with. Over the last few hours more than a dozen or so vans and trucks and other vehicles have been turning up to deliver something past the gates, half of them having to be authorised by Chief herself to get through. By now, she's gotten used to the reality of her current shift.

What annoys her is that this one had to turn up three minutes before she was about to clock out and go and join the party.

She leans over and presses the intercom as the car comes to a halt.

“Please provide identification and the reason for your visit,” she says monotonously. It'll be something dull again. Another delivery, or someone from the 9^th. The guard can't remember the last time someone arrived at the Bureau by mistake, if they ever have.

“I'm sorry for turning up so late,” says a familiar voice. “But I'm on a bit of a tight schedule for tonight. If you don't mind, could you please just let me through? I'll be sure to explain to Chief that you were just doing what I asked you to.”

The voice jogs something in the back of the guard's mind. She leans forward and peers at the monitor just in time for the window to roll down and reveal a familiar face.

“Miss Shalom,” she says, her earlier irritation fading away. “We weren't expecting to see you here tonight. Hold on, I'll buzz through and let Chief know you're here.”

“That won't be necessary,” Shalom says politely. “Actually, could you please not tell her that I've arrived? I won't be staying for long, but I was in the area, and I thought I'd come by and surprise you all. I'd appreciate if you kept the fact I'm here a secret for now.”

The guard nods her head despite the fact Shalom can't see her at all.

“Oh, of course, Miss Shalom. Letting you in now.”

The guard reaches over to press the gate release and pauses, finger hovering over the button. There's something she should probably warn Shalom about now before it's too late.

“Before you go inside, make sure you keep an eye out. There's a big Halloween party going on tonight, and Chief has let the Sinners off the leash. No idea how far it's gone by now, but you might want to be prepared for the chaos.”

There's a gentle giggle from the other end of the speaker.

“Thank you for the warning. I'll be sure to take care walking around. And thank you for humouring me like this. I really appreciate it. I hope you have a good night when your shift finally ends.”

“And you too, Miss Shalom,” the guard says before pushing the button. She leans back in her chair and watches the gate slide open to let the car inside. The engine thrums to life, and the moment the gate is fully open, the car rolls forward. The guard smiles to herself and shakes her head.

Everyone at the Bureau still remembers when Shalom was a more consistent presence in the place, and all of them miss the fact she isn't there any more. All the others are going to be jealous when she tells them that she was the one on-the-clock when she reappeared like this.

She leans back in her chair and checks her watch. Only one minute left until clocking out.

Inside the car, Shalom looks out at the grounds of the Bureau through the dark tinted windows. The view through them is murky and dim at the best of time. Now, with how late at night it is, she might as well be looking out into the depths of DisSea.

“Explain yourself, X.”

Shalom turns away from the imaginary depths to regard the floating Schorl beside her.

“You mean my reasons for dropping in to the Bureau unannounced?” She asks.

“Correct,” Schorl replies bluntly. “Your last meeting with Shepherd-13 should have given you all the information you needed to assess them. Yet you're here again. Explain.”

Shalom leans back in her seat, hands folded across her lap.

“Of course. Shepherd-13's assessment was completed during my last contact with them, and I'm confident that it won't have changed substantially in the given time frame since then.” She unfolds her hands. The car is approaching the front entrance now. “But, given the circumstances, we can't allow for any possibility of deviations from that projection. Therefore, given my tasks this evening brought me close to the Bureau, and I have time for it, a drop-in inspection to confirm if anything has changed seemed the most appropriate course of action.”

There's a low burst of data-noise from the Schorl unit as it processes her answer.

“Confirm. You believe that temporary re-contact with Shepherd-13 is necessary?”

“No, not necessary.” Shalom says. “But the possibility for failure here is unacceptable. Risking a minor expenditure of effort in exchange for certainty is a trade I'm willing to make as Hush. Are my actions unacceptable?”

“...No,” the Schorl unit finally relents. “Your logic is sound. Ensure that exposure to Shepherd-13 is limited to what is necessary. Avoid risking damage to yourself.”

“That won't be a problem,” Shalom says. “She won't do anything to put me at risk. She isn't willing to make an enemy of Paradeisos right now, if ever. Rest assured, I've considered this thoroughly already.”

The car comes to a halt just as she finishes speaking. Shalom is relieved. She had prepared the justification well in advance, but having to deliver so much of it is an irritation she would have preferred to do without. Not hiding how much of a rush she's in, she reaches over to open the car door and step outside.

“Oh,” she says, turning to look at Schorl. “This visit will require you to remain behind. If you're present, I have good reason to believe Shepherd-13 will suspect something. Is that an acceptable part of this for you?”

Her answer is a level 3 scan. Shalom waits patiently for it to end. It won't find anything. It's a waste of time, both for her and the minds of Paradeisos.

“Acceptability confirmed,” Schorl dings in reply. “Return quickly, X. You have more work to do tonight.”

“Understood,” Shalom replies. “I'll be back as soon as I'm satisfied with the results of this visit. Don't worry, I won't be long.”

With that, the pointless exchange ends. Shalom steps out of the car and closes the door behind her. A late October wind stirs the hem of her coat as she looks up at the full moon. If she hadn't seen everything that she had by now, the night might feel scary to her. Full of menace and lurking threats beneath the chill gloom.

As it is, it barely phases her. Even her recognition of it is purely intellectual. Her conscious mind is too busy thinking about the psychological factors behind the individual elements, and wryly noting how they pale compared to the things she's seen.

Her inner self, the few emotions that have poured in through the cracks in her heart, is too full to feel frightened.

It's taken her a while to find an opportunity like this, to give herself an excuse to visit and a time when she won't have to deal with all the officialdom and messiness of work that engulfs Chief's daily life. The fact that she's managed to find a golden chance to do that fills her heart with a quiet joy that she's rarely felt before.

Smiling, Shalom takes the first step into the Bureau, unable to contain her anticipation of what's to come, and without a single thing in her way.

As it turns out, there is one small problem.

The fact that a raucous party is hours underway, surprisingly, isn't it it. The paper chains of ghosts, freshly-carved pumpkins, and the horde of costumed Sinners and staff aren't the issue. Despite how colourful anything is, none of it gets in the way or holds her up, and Shalom has an inkling that Chief has spent the last few days making sure that nothing about the party is going to get in anyone's way.

The problem is actually finding Chief.

Shalom exits another one of the riotous recreation rooms, her smile beginning to crack at the edges. It's been almost half an hour since she arrived, and all of it has been spent wandering about asking if anyone has seen Chief. After her office turned out to be empty, which was the first genuine surprise of the night, she'd been forced to search on foot.

And none of the people she's asked, not the staff, not the Sinners, has been able to tell her where Chief currently is.

Shalom wishes, for the first time since she met her, that for once, Chief would stop being such an unpredictable wildcard in everything.

She takes a deep breath and continues walking, head down as her mind races. Her time is beginning to run out. The reality of what's been going on will only buy her so much leeway from Paradeisos. And the rest of her tasks for the evening are looming in the back of her mind. She thought there would be enough leeway to accomplish everything, and even made sure that even if she couldn't, they were minor issues that could be pushed back if needed, but the knock-on effects are all too-.

“Shalom? What are you doing here?”

Looking up, Shalom blinks in surprise. The carefully crafted and maintained smile on her face is immediately replaced by another one, identical on the surface, but made entirely separately, and for only one person to ever see.

“Good evening, Chief,” she says to the woman who's just appeared in front of her. “I hope you don't mind me appearing out of the blue like this. I'd heard you were having a party for Halloween, and thought that I'd-.”

She doesn't get a chance to finish her sentence before Chief grabs her by the shoulders and pulls her bodily to the side of the corridor. Shalom barely even has time to blink before she hears the sound of a door opening, and even less time before the door slams shut again, leaving her in complete darkness.

There's a soft plink, followed by a blinding amount of light. Shalom blinks against the glare and looks around. Mops, buckets, and shelves of cleaning supplies stare back at her. Chief has dragged her into what looks an awful lot like a janitor's closet.

Before she can ask the obvious question, Chief is in front of her again. There's a fierce light behind her eyes as she glares at her, and Shalom can't help but enjoy the sight a little.

“What are you doing here, Shalom?”

It's a blunt question, one she's certain Chief wouldn't have asked if Schorl was around. That alone makes it worth the hassle, past and future, of leaning the monitor-drone behind.

“It's like I was about to tell you, Chief,” she replies coolly. “I heard you were having a Halloween party, and I was in the area, so I thought I'd drop by and say hello. It's been a while, after all. I wanted to see how the Bureau was doing.”

Chief's glare doesn't ease up. Shalom stands up straighter and puts a hand on the place where Chief grabbed her. There're traces of warmth still left behind.

“That's it? Really?” Chief asks.

“That's it.” Shalom nods. “Unofficially, anyway. Officially, I'm here to check in on you.”

“Let me guess, Paradeisos' idea?”

“No, actually. It was mine.”

That does the trick. The wary, watchful care behind Chief's eyes immediately dissolves away. She leans back against the wall, almost sagging down it, and rubs her eyes.

“That's really why you're here? Just to pay a visit?”

Shalom giggles. “Yes, Chief. That's exactly why I'm here.”

Shalom watches Chief as the rest of the tension drains away. Chief rubs her eyes again, clearly tired, not that she ever isn't, and pushes herself off the wall of the closet.

“In that case,” she says, her voice much warmer now. “Sorry about...just now.”

“Don't worry about it,” Shalom says. “I understand entirely. It's late, and I get the feeling you've been running around for the past few hours trying to make sure nobody gets hurt whilst having everything that you want. Anyone would be jumpy and stressed after all that.”

It's not a question. Shalom knows Chief too well for that. And Chief has the good dignity not to try and deny that she has hit the mark exactly.

“Do you want anything then?” Chief asks. “We've got food, drinks, enough for you to have as much as you want. I'm honestly a little worried what we're going to do with all the leftovers we'll have after this.”

“Thank you, but no. I've already eaten tonight. Besides, this really is just a passing visit. It took me a while to find you as is. You made me work hard for it.”

“Sorry, I-...” Chief trails off, blushing ruefully. The colour always looks so bright given how pale she is. “It's good to see you, Shalom. I mean that.”

Shalom's smile brightens at the words. She can tell they're entirely earnest. It makes her anticipate what's going to happen next all the more.

“Though,” she begins to say, “now that I think about it, I did have a present for you that I wanted to give while I was here. You don't mind the surprise, do you?”

Chief's eyes narrow in confusion.

“Shalom, it's Halloween. People don't give presents to each other on Halloween.”

“Don't they?” Shalom's eyes gleam. “Then what about trick or treating? That's all about giving people things isn't it?”

“That,” Chief says pointedly, “is not the same and you know it.”

“Ah, I see. In that case, if you really don't want it, then I'll hold onto it until a more appropriate occasion.” Shalom turns towards the door. “It's good to see you, Chief. Until next ti-.”

There's a pressure on her wrist before she can even take the first step. Shalom looks up, the smile on her lips widening further at the sheepish expression on Chief's face.

“Well,” Chief says awkwardly, “if you're here, then there's...no real point in you coming all the way back here just to give me a present. So I can just take it now and...hold onto it.”

Shalom nods.

“Of course, Chief. Whatever you say.”

Her coat rustles as Shalom digs into one of the inner pockets. The package she retrieves is a small one, about the size of a clenched fist. She holds it out to Chief, who takes it, only giving it a curious look before tucking it into one of her own coat pockets.

“Well, that's everything I came here for then.” Shalom glances at her watch. She really should be leaving now. If only she'd managed to find Chief sooner, they could have done so much more. “I should get going. It was good to see you Chief.”

“Shalom.”

Her hand freezes on the door handle, barely half-turned. She looks back. There's something different about Chief's expression. Chief is looking directly at her now. She can feel it. Chief is looking at her. Not at Paradeisos' agent, the Hush she doesn't know she is, but at her.

It sends a flutter through Shalom's chest that she wants to etch into her heart so deep that it will last until nothing else of her remains.

“Will I see you like this again?” Chief asks.

Shalom thinks about it, genuinely. She runs the models she's made, the predictions for what will happen, using the vaunted intelligence that Paradeisos chose her for and nurtured in her. The result turns the edges of her smile sad.

“I can't say for certain, Chief,” she says. “But...I don't think it's a likely event.”

Chief doesn't respond at first. Shalom watches as her hands clench and unclench. She needs to go. She's been here too long already. Hush needs to leave. Her duties call.

Chief takes a step towards her. In one smooth motion she leans in close, hand rising to cup the edge of her cheek, and presses her lips against Shalom's in an entirely unexpected kiss.

It lasts a moment. It lasts forever.

Shalom has no comparison to base the contact on. Nothing even close.

But for the second time that night, she experiences something that she wants to hold onto until the very end.

It fades, of course. Chief pulls back, her breath warm against Shalom's face, her grey eyes gleaming with the energy of their contact.

“That's my present,” Chief says quietly. “For you. I didn't have anything, so that's all I can offer. No refunds or returns accepted, I'm afraid.”

Shalom snorts with laughter at that. “Of course, Chief. I'll keep that in mind.”

It's not a typical parting, or the one she wanted. Far from it. But that is, in a way, what makes it feel like such a natural one. With the moment over, everything that needed to be said feeling like it had been said, Shalom turns the handle on the door and pulls it open. Both of them step outside, barely glancing at each other as they walk in opposite directions down the corridor.

At the intersection at the end, Shalom halts, and turns around. She watches the outline of Chief as she walks away. Even from this distance, Chief's shoulders look so very, very broad to hear.

Shalom wishes she had a camera on hand to capture the moment. But her eyes will have to do. Her smile, the one just for Chief, fades away, and the usual one takes its place.

With that, Shalom turns around and heads back towards the waiting Schorl.

It's late morning, the day after the party, when Chief remembers the box in her coat pocket.

She minimises the files on-screen and fishes it out of her pocket. Now that she can see it clearly, it's a very neatly wrapped box. The white ribbon around it adds a touch of elegance, and the smooth black material implies some kind of high quality material. Effort had clearly gone into it, and Faye's usual gift wrap service didn't come anywhere close to matching it.

Carefully, Chief unties the white ribbon and lifts the lid up. She reaches in, the paper inside the box rustling as she brushes against it, and lifts the contents up beneath the light.

A long black strip of material with a white flower in the centre dangles between her fingers. Chief runs her eyes over it again, her hazy brain trying to figure out what exactly it is. She lowers it down into both her hands and examinines it carefully.

It takes her a second to join the dots together. It looks like a choker, an accessory to wear around her neck.

It takes another second to realise it looks like Shalom's choker.

Instantly her cheeks flush red and Chief pockets it in a hurry. The last thing she needs is Nightingale coming in and seeing what she's holding. Or Hecate. Or literally anyone. She can't bear the idea of a second wave of threads cropping up on the Bureau forum wildly theorising about whether or not her and Shalom are in love.

The fact that they would be completely right is, to her mind, entirely beside the point.

Chief shakes her head and tries to refocus herself. There's still clean-up to do after last night, and after that, more files to go through. She turns back to her screen and re-opens the program she was using, trying to turn her attention back to the vagaries of Bureau life.

Something catches her attention from the corner of her eye. She looks back at the box sat on her desk, and for the first time, notices the piece of paper folded neatly in the centre. She reaches out and flips it open. The handwriting is neat and elegant. It's Shalom's.

In case of kidnapping, please turn over.

Chief turns it over.

Since you don't seem able to avoid getting dragged around by the Sinners you come across, I took the liberty of adding a tracking device to the choker. It won't activate unless you turn it on, so don't worry about anyone else using it to find you.

Happy Halloween

Shalom

X