"Why would I break up with her? Things are good between us." I shrug.
"I saw you with that hot chick." He pointed an accusatory finger at me.
"What hot chick?" I tilt my head in confusion.
"Don't play dumb! We're best friends, the least you can do is tell me the truth. I saw you checking up on her, she's really hot by the way," Patrick made a pause to high five me for a reason then continued. "but Maggie is Tasha's best friend and I'm dating Maggie. Do you know where I'm going with this?"
"Honestly, I don't have a clue."
"If you want to be a player like Harris do it with someone else. Not with my girlfriend's best friend! She might break up with me and all because you couldn't keep it in your pants." It took me a while, but I finally understood what he was yapping about.
"Nothing happened between me and agent Morrison."
"Oh, really? Then why did you two go on a date!?"
"It wasn't a date, she just bought me clothes for a mission."
"Mission? What mission, you work at a desk!"
It was at that moment I realized I screwed up. I never told Patrick about my new position as a field agent and it was better to leave things as they are. The less they knew, the safer they were not just because my current line of work is dangerous but also because if they somehow found out about my abilities the FBI would make them disappear. Whether that meant witness protection or something worse, either way I would never see them again.
Instead of digging myself deeper, I decided to call Tasha and invite her over to 'clear' the misunderstanding. She showed up in fifteen minutes in casual clothes that showed she came in a rush.
"Let me get this straight, you saw Bob with another woman shopping?" Tasha's voice was ice.
"Yes." Patrick nodded.
"And you don't deny it?" She played the girlfriend part to perfection, even the jealousy in her tone seemed real.
"It's the truth. I was helping another agent on the field, but my suit blew her cover so she bought me clothes."
"I can't believe it..." Tasha clenched her fists. Maybe she went a bit too far with the acting.
"Before you break up with him, I just want you to know he's never done anything like this and he's very sorry." Patrick pushed my head down to apologize.
"I can't believe how bad her taste in clothes is." Tasha laughed out loud and after a few awkward seconds Patrick joined in.
"They're really bad, aren't they?" The room went from tense to embarrassing as I was left standing like a prop.
"We need to fix this, I'm taking you shopping this weekend." Tasha declared before leaving. Patrick wheezed a relieved sigh before leaving.
Next morning came with me wearing casual clothes, though not the outfit Morrison picked for me. We were supposed to visit the suspect's neighborhood like the day before but Morrison decided it was hazing time.
"Did you drop by the thrift store before coming?" She mocked. It seems I really need to renew my wardrobe. I don't reply, just keep my gaze on the road contrary to the person actually driving. "and what's that about coming from a desk? Is that true or Hale was just messing with me?"
"I actually come from a desk." I shrug.
"I'm really stuck babysitting, huh," She spoke to herself before turning to me. "do you want to know what's the difference between working in a desk and on the field?"
For starters desks are comfy, work is safe and I can take breaks whenever. As long as you show up in time no one bothers you and if you make a mistake, it can be fixed by filling a form. There's also the fact that most cases are closed in a desk than on the field. But of course I remain silent and let her rant.
"Every time you set your foot out the door you're risking your life and work doesn't end when the clock says so. Instead of taking files back home, there could be assassins following you and they won't just target you, they could target your friends and family. That's bad enough as it is, but it's even worse in our department. There's magic spells to locate people and the only thing they need is your name or something that belonged to you."
"I didn't know that."
"Heck, there's even Vodoo dolls that actually work. That's why you need to be more cautious."
"Understood."
"Now, what do you know about other worlds?"
"They're pretty uncomfortable and it's impossible to find a decent bathroom."
"You're not wrong," Laughed Morrison. "do you know how do we get there?"
"There are special items that allow us to open gates to other worlds." Like the book the psychokinetic guy used to kidnap people.
"Sure, they connect our world with other realities. But the way we travel is by opening gates with mana."
"That's it! We need to go to the suspect's apartment!" Morrison seemed annoyed for a second, but she turned on the siren and drove like a maniac without questioning me. I could have explained it, but I needed to put my thoughts in order first. It was just by accident, but when Morrison spoke she made me see what kept bothering me yesterday.
We arrived at the scene, but this time we didn't talk with anyone and just barged inside the abandoned apartment and I went straight to the suspect's computer.
"What are you doing?" She asked.
"When someone commits a crime, their belongings are confiscated as evidence. But that's not the case in our department. Most returnees resort to other means of communication making it useless to investigate on their laptops."
"Of course, magic can't be traced as easily."
"But that doesn't mean there aren't any clues. You see, this suspect mentioned he loved the internet more than he loved magic. We can speak with the neighbors all we want, but they barely knew him. The people that actually knew him are online." By the time Morrison understood what I was saying I was already compiling the data registry on a single file and stored it on a USB drive.
Basically, I made a backup of all his online activities which could potentially give us the leads we were missing. I wish I could investigate this on my own, but time was of the essence and I called Thompson and handed him remote access to the suspect's computer.
"Who's that Thompson?"
"My assistant."
"You have an assistant?"
"Don't you? I thought all field agents had assistants."
"You're kidding, right?" Morrison asked in disbelief. I don't get what the big deal is, but the time for socialization ended when we received a dispatch call.
Thompson really was efficient. In just a few minutes he had a dossier on the subject. From activities, contacts and even possible locations. He noticed the agent in charge, which was Hale who then called the team to gather at the most likely location.
"Can I drive?"
"You're the one who found the intel, so..." Morrison handed me the keys and I drove with the calm of someone who really wanted to miss the action. I still turned on the emergency lights, but I did not rush. Morrison looked antsy but didn't comment.
"We were too late." She clicked her tongue, but didn't complain.
By the time we made it to the bureau the entire department was in an uproar. There were people celebrating with soda and biscuits waiting for Hale to show up. I found out later that the subject was killed by Hale's team and that they found more merchandise from his world. It's too bad we didn't get to arrest him, but just documenting the seized assets would keep the entire division bound to a chair. In other words, not necessarily a bad outcome for me.
"I wish I saw the fight, they say Hale is really powerful." Morrison commented.
"You really don't, it was pretty hefty. Your partner wouldn't have lasted for a minute." Another agent commented and Morrison directed me a glance. I understand now why she didn't complain when I took the wheel, guess she figured out I didn't want to participate and didn't want to embarrass me.
Back in my own office I found a stern looking Thompson going over the suspect's log to compile the data and Nora drinking soda by herself on a corner.
"Agent Bob! I thought you'd be celebrating with the field agents!"
"No, I didn't make it in time and it feels awkward to celebrate with people who risked their lives when I did nothing." I shake my head.
"Are you implying our work is less important?" Thompson asked.
"No, you did the work. I just passed you the data." I sigh as I drop on my chair to sort some data before Thompson got everything done by himself.
It's just another day in the office.