Archive of Our Own ^beta

"All agents in position," Magnus enjoined his fellow police officers through their earpieces, "Morgenstern is on the move. We act as planned."

He listened to various answers of agreement coming from his teammates but never let his guard down during these few seconds, eyes set on the entrance of the luxurious hotel across the street where, if everything went well, they would arrest Valentine Morgenstern in less than five minutes.

If they succeeded, they would put an end to his organised crime ring, all thanks to a tip from a young woman, Dorothea, that Morgenstern Junior had blackmailed into sleeping with him. Sebastian was not as smart as his father, as it seemed, and Magnus could only be grateful for his lack of insight and his youthful impetuosity.

Not only had Sebastian met her more than once in the same place, this hotel that Magnus probably could not afford to spend one night in even if he gathered one year worth of salary, but the man had also planned their little rendezvous' with extreme regularity. A chance for the cops, really: as soon as Dorothea Rollins had come to them and explained what had happened to her, close surveillance of the hotel had revealed all they wanted to know - and more.

Sebastian was not the only member of his family, of his clan, to frequent the place: daddy dear did too, although less inflexibly than his son. He could go weeks without turning up at all so at first, Magnus had thought that his team would need to be especially lucky to be on location at the same time as Valentine's business brought him there.

Ragnor and Catarina had found the solution though, bless them. After many sleepless nights spent examining every frame of the hotel's security cameras and the registers of customers, they had eventually realised that the same name popped up in the list every time Morgenstern appeared on screen. The man stayed for the night under the name Verlac. From there, it had been easy to ask the manager of the hotel for his help, as well as his absolute discretion. And when Mr. Brandt had called that morning, saying that Verlac had booked his usual room for five in the afternoon, Magnus had nearly cried happy tears that tasted like victory.

"Magnus," Ragnor called suddenly, "Black SUV coming up, you should see it in a few seconds."

"Confirmed," Magnus answered when, indeed, he caught sight of the car from his spot. "Alright everyone, let's go! Remember: if this is him, do not let Morgenstern enter the hotel. Good luck!"

He didn't remind his team that he had promised to offer them Champagne once they would have arrested Valentine: they had to stay focused, all of them.

Magnus remained in hiding as the car stopped in front of the elegant stairs that led to the actual entrance of the hotel, but he didn't miss one second of what was happening. Raphael, dressed in the livery of a parking attendant, was the one to open the passenger door and Magnus anxiously waited for his confirmation that the SUV was indeed carrying Morgenstern and not some other rich, influential man.

"Welcome back, Mister Verlac," Raphael said then, greeting the man as he stepped out of his car and letting all his teammates know that their target had arrived. "Should I take care of your luggage after parking the car? I can call another steward if you need it at once?"

If he'd had the time, Magnus would have pointed out that Raphael sounded unusually cheerful, stalling and playing his role to perfection, but given the current circumstances, he only sprang out of his hiding spot and strode to the car, gun out and aimed at the vehicle.

"Valentine Morgenstern, on your knees!" Magnus yelled as soon as he got close enough, seeing his teammates surround the car from the corner of his eye.

Catarina opened the other door and grabbed the driver by his collar before throwing him onto the ground and keeping her gun on him, while Ragnor took care of the goon on the back seat and the other officers checked the perimeter for any potential ally of Morgenstern who would try to help him.

"What the f..."

"On your knees!" Raphael repeated when Valentine didn't immediately complied, too shocked by this sudden and unexpected turn of events to react in any way.

Reluctant to give more time to this asshole, Magnus kicked Morgenstern in the crook of his left knee and Valentine let out a pained gasp when he collapsed on the hard concrete ground. Raphael was quick to grab his hands and pull them behind his back, taking a pair of handcuffs seemingly out of nowhere while Magnus rattled on the man's rights.

"Valentine Morgenstern, you are under arrest," he blurted out, elated that he was finally able to say these condemning words, "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you by the court."

"You will pay for this," Valentine shouted, managing to look threatening even from his spot on the ground, "You will pay!"

"I highly doubt it," Magnus answered sweetly, revelling into each and every nervous twitch on the other man's angry face. "With you behind bars, your organisation won't survive. Your son isn't as sly and cunning as you, he can't be a great leader like you... Because as much as it pains me to admit it, you're good at what you do. Oops, my bad. What you did. You are over, Morgenstern."

In spite of his words, he was glad when his teammates took Morgenstern and his subordinates away, before the commotion could attract the customers of the hotel or worse, journalists. Turning to Raphael, Magnus was about to ask him to take care of the SUV, but he couldn't resist a small jibe at his attire first.

"You look good in red," he said, waggling his brows at the newsboy cap atop Raphael's short hair. "Maybe you should ask Brandt to let you keep the uniform."

"Go fuck yourself, Magnus," Raphael answered without heat, all too used to the downsides of working with his best friend.

"I might do just that," he said, shrugging offhandedly. "My body's so tense and wound up, I sure deserve to relax a little."

"A hot bath can do wonders," Raphael argued, "Or warm socks and a thick blanket, with a good book and a glass of milk with honey."

Magnus chuckled at that and Raphael elbowed him, unimpressed, before he reminded his friend of their duty.

"Come on," he said, gesturing to the hall of the hotel, "We have to check the room Morgenstern booked."

Magnus followed, feeling the tension slip off his shoulders even as they stepped into the building and headed for the front desk, where two employees were glancing at them in worry and curiosity - the curious looks were mostly thrown Raphael's way, for he didn't look like one of the regular parking attendants, that much was obvious.

"May I help you?" a blonde woman asked from behind the counter, twisting her fingers nervously.

"Yes," Magnus answered, squinting at her nametag, "Lydia. Well, see, my partner and I would very much like to get a look around one of your rooms."

"Suite," Raphael specified, "Number forty-five."

"Your boss knows about this of course," Magnus added with a charming smile when he saw that Lydia looked a bit hesitant. "You won't be in any trouble."

"I... I know that," she answered, "Mister Brandt told us this morning that maybe a policeman or two would need to take a look around the hotel. But..."

"Yes?" Magnus prompted her gently, although a bit urgently.

Lydia turned around to gesture at the rows of keys behind her back and she pointed at the number forty-five, where a key was clearly missing.

"Someone already checked in for that room," she explained.

"Who?" Magnus immediately pried, while Raphael rapidly muttered in his earpiece to ask for a few officers to come back and help them.

"A young man," Lydia blurted out with wide eyes when she saw Raphael take out his gun and check the safety lock, "I don't know his name! He said he was with Mister Verlac and he already came here once or twice with him so I... I gave him the key. I'm sorry, I didn't know you would need to see that suite specifically, I..."

"It's alright," Magnus told her, even though it really was not. "Now do me a favour, please: call all the occupied rooms and ask your customers not to leave in the next twenty minutes. I know this is surely an inconvenience to your business but we need you to do this. Lives might be at stake."

Lydia nodded, her face full of worry, and she immediately asked her colleague to help her. Together, the two employees made a dozen phone calls, remaining awfully polite and professional as they asked their customers to stay put, always kind even though the answers they got sometimes sounded frustrated or angry. It only took a few minutes and in the meantime, Ragnor and Catarina joined Magnus and Raphael in the hall.

"Do you think Morgenstern Junior had a meeting with his father?" Catarina asked as soon as her fellow officers repeated what Lydia had explained to them.

"Isn't it risky for them to meet outside their headquarters, when they could totally do that in a safer place?" Ragnor shot back, eyebrows furrowed. "I mean, they're family. Easier to have cosy meetings at home, no?"

"There's only one way to find out," Magnus said, before he addressed the receptionist again. "Lydia, are you done?"

"Yes," she answered, looking a bit pale. "Can we do anything else?"

Magnus only asked for a master key and suggested that she and her friend retreated somewhere safe and locked the door behind themselves, just in case. They had no idea who this young man she had mentioned could be and Magnus was not in the mood to take any unnecessary risk, especially not with civilians' lives.

"Ready?" he asked his friends.

"Ready," Catarina answered, while Ragnor and Raphael only nodded, tightening their hold on their guns.

They climbed the stairs up to the second floor in the utmost silence, attentive to every sound around them, and they gathered around the door of the suite forty-five. They could not hear anything and luckily for them, the windows of that room didn't open on the front of the building: hopefully, the man inside had not seen nor heard anything from the arrest of Morgenstern. He was in for a surprise.

When Magnus felt Ragnor's gentle tap on his shoulder, meaning that they were all ready, he inserted the key into the gold plated lock and turned, holding his breath, praying not to make any noise that would alert the man inside. The door gave with a tiny click and Magnus slowly pushed it open, his friends' guns aimed protectively in front of him.

They stepped inside, swift and quiet, but the main room was empty. The sheets on the bed were not ruffled in the slightest, there was no luggage in sight, no phone abandoned on the small coffee table that stood in front of a comfortable-looking couch. No sign of life.

On the right though, a door that probably led to the bathroom was shut, and Magnus grabbed the handle with caution, meaning to check whether it was locked. It was not.

"I'm going in," he whispered to his friends.

They nodded and Magnus opened the door. The room he walked in was, as he'd guessed, a bathroom; wide and luminous, with a large mirror that took up part of the opposite wall, and a bathtub that would have delighted Raphael - or maybe not, because someone was already in there: a man, certainly the one Lydia had given a key to, leaning against the white porcelain with his back on them. The bather didn't move when Magnus entered, his colleagues following, and for a moment he feared that maybe the young man was dead. Only then did he notice the earphones and the phone itself, laid on the edge of the tub.

A quick glance around proved that there was no weapon in this room so Magnus got rid of his own gun before he moved forward, stopping next to the man who looked half-asleep, his eyes closed. The police officer took in the boyish face, the plump lips and the long eyelashes casting shadows across two cheeks that the warmth of the bath had turned slightly pink; he looked at the slender neck, tattooed on its left side, and his eyes followed the path down to a muscular chest that foamy bubbles were partly hiding. And then, shaking himself off his contemplation, Magnus tugged on the earphones.

The man startled at the sudden loss of his music and his eyes flashed open, before he yelped at the sight of Magnus, sitting upright in the bathtub and splashing water around. To his credit, he recovered quite quickly, putting a delicate hand on his chest, where his heart was certainly hammering against his ribcage.

"You scared me!" the young man exclaimed, looking offended and not really surprised to see Magnus - or at least, not as surprised as he should have been. "Who are you? Val didn't tell me he had invited a friend..."

Val. Morgenstern. A young man, and a gorgeous one at that, naked in a bathtub, on a first name basis (sort of) with Valentine Morgenstern, not at all shying away from a stranger's gaze whom he thought was there on Val's so-kind invitation. It gave Magnus enough materials to draw a conclusion, that Ragnor was quicker to voice out than him.

"Great. We found Morgenstern's whore," he grumbled.

The young man jumped at the new voice and turned around, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of the three other people standing, somewhat flabbergasted, on the threshold.

"Escort, please," he scoffed, "Not whore. Also, judging by your uniforms and guns, I take it you're not here for pleasurable business. Thank God, I don't do women anyway."

He glanced at Catarina with an apologetic smile, before he added:

"I didn't do anything wrong."

"Are you so sure of that?" Raphael asked. "Were you or were you not waiting here for Valentine Morgenstern? Or Verlac, maybe, depending on the name he gave you."

"He didn't give any last name," the escort said with a shrug, "But Valentine, yes. Why? Is he in trouble?"

Magnus sighed. He wasn't sure whether the young man was truly ignorant of his... employer's activities or was merely pretending to be, but one thing was certain. They could not interrogate that man while he was naked in a bathtub. That was highly unprofessional.

"Get out and get dressed," he ordered him. "You're coming to the police station with us. Only so we can hear what you have to say."

The young man slowly closed his mouth, when he had been ready to protest two seconds prior, thinking that he was being arrested. He heaved a deep sigh but nodded - and Magnus nearly regretted his previous words when the escort, just like that, stood up. He was tall, taller than him, and completely naked with no more bubbles to hide anything at all, neither the intricate tattoos adorning his arms, his shoulders, his left hip and his ribs, nor his long legs and his cock that hung, only half-flaccid, in-between.

Magnus tried to focus on the hazel shade of the young man's eyes. He really did but apparently, he didn't try hard enough, if the smug way the escort smirked at him was anything to go by. Fuck.

"Do I fluster you, Officer...?" he asked, his last word hanging in the air, waiting for a name.

"Bane," Magnus answered uneasily. "Officer Bane. And no. Now get dressed, Mister...?"

"Just Alec," he answered with a bark of laughter as his own question was returned to him.

Fortunately, Just Alec stopped mocking him and grabbed a towel. Magnus turned away then, before his face could show any sign of agitation, and he walked out of the bathroom and even out of the suite completely, to check that nobody stood in the hallway and would see them bring the prostitute with them. Or at least, that was the official reason for his hasty leave. In truth, he might have indeed felt a bit... hot and bothered. Damn it. He was usually the one to make men and women swoon, not the other way around!

"Seems like you have found your partner for the night," Raphael suddenly said, joining his friend in the hallway and leaving Cat and Ragnor to deal with Alec.

"He's an escort," Magnus scoffed. "And a possible suspect."

"He looks pretty innocent to me," Raphael objected. "You and I both know prostitutes are seldom aware of their patrons' activities. Morgenstern is rich, period."

Maybe. Probably. It didn't change the fact that this young man was an escort. He didn't really want to sleep with him only to see him again a few days, a few weeks later, on the arm of someone he knew, even if only from afar. He also did not want to think of the possibility that Alec might turn up dead soon enough: Morgenstern had fallen and his empire with him. He didn't doubt that his goons would try to salvage what little they could, which meant getting rid of everything and everyone who could compromise them.

"Is he ready?" Magnus asked, switching topics.

"Almost, I think," Raphael humoured him, knowing when to drop it (only to come back to it later though.)

It turned out that yes, Alec was ready, although his hair was wet, and the five of them left the suite. The four police officers were surrounding the young man as if he were a prisoner and Magnus made sure to lead the way so that he wouldn't have to see the tight black pants Alec was wearing, nor his fashionable sweater that Magnus himself would not have dismissed, had he been planning on spending a night out dancing. Black as well, the sweater was a bit long even on Alec's tall body but what made it truly interesting was the sides and the sleeves, made of mesh fabric and creating a game of shadows on his pale skin. Magnus had to give it to him, the boy knew how to make himself look good and fascinating. Not that it was his job or anything.

Ragnor drove them back to the police station safely, a wonder, since all red and green lights looked the same to him, and Alec stumbled out of the police car looking a bit ill.

"This way," Catarina told him when they walked in the building, resting her hands on his shoulders to steer him in the right direction.

Alec let himself be guided, glancing around and opening wide eyes at everything he saw, from Magnus' grumpy colleagues to the teenager crying in a chair because someone had stolen her phone in the subway - my whole life's in that phone, Officer!

Catarina opened the door to her and Ragnor's office and motioned the young man to sit down while her friends gathered inside the room, that quickly became too stuffy. Its narrowness was not meant to allow five grown-ups inside. Raphael asked for Alec's ID and left the tiny room to run a few routine tests, giving them just a bit more space to work.

"So," Ragnor started, looking at Alec with a severe look in his eyes. "What was your business with Valentine Morgenstern?"

Alec actually chuckled at that and Magnus rolled his eyes.

"Do you want all the details?" Alec asked, crossing his arms against his chest. "Or only the... nature of our business? Because in this case, let me tell you that it was sexual. Now, if you want the details, I can..."

"No, thank you," Catarina said firmly. "What do you know of Morgenstern's professional activities?"

"Nothing," Alec answered with a disinterested shrug. "We didn't talk much about that kind of stuff, you know? I just assumed he's a businessman... Well, a rich one. Isn't he?"

"Sort of," Magnus told him. "How many times did you meet?"

Alec didn't say anything at first, biting the inside of his cheek and raising his eyes to the ceiling while he tried to remember, counting on his fingers as he thought aloud:

"It was all very new so... Not many times. First time to discuss terms... Second time to try things out. Today would have been the fifth time, actually. So, what happened to him? Is he dead? Did he do something wrong? You know you still haven't said anything to me, right?"

"And you don't actually need to know anything," Ragnor grumbled. "Only that perhaps you would do well to leave New York for a few days. Weeks, even better."

So Magnus had not been the only one to think that Alec could be in danger, considering his... intimate ties to Morgenstern. He hoped that the young man would heed their warning. He didn't exactly want to find the escort's body in a dark alley in a few hours - or a few days, if Alec was both smart and lucky and managed to survive for a little while.

"What?" Alec exclaimed, rising from his chair, "Now wait a minute..."

The young man didn't have the time to voice out his indignation any further: a sharp knock on the door later, Raphael was peeking inside the crowded office, looking more upset than usual.

"The feds are here," he said, eyes travelling to Cat, to Ragnor, to Magnus. "They want a word with you, about Morgenstern."

"Feds?" Alec echoed, voice weak, slowly sitting back down. "The actual freaking FBI? For Valentine? Oh God... Listen, I did nothing wrong and I don't want to be in any trouble! Please, don't send me to the FBI... You... You said I wasn't under arrest!"

"You're not," Ragnor confirmed. "And you are free to go. But do what we said: leave the City."

But Alec wasn't listening anymore: as soon as Ragnor said that he could leave, the escort jumped to his feet and departed in a hurry, bumping shoulders with someone in the hallway but not even bothering to turn around and apologise. Magnus could understand his haste to get away: prostitutes' backgrounds often flirted with illegality and he was certain that Alec didn't want to give the feds any chance to dig into his past.

Magnus himself couldn't say that he liked the FBI agents much... Mostly because they were arrogant shits who had a knack for letting others do the dirty work and then, making it look like it was all their doing. Ugh.

As it turned out, the person that Alec had ran into was no other than one of the FBI agents who had come to speak to Magnus' team: a blond man with a firm handshake, followed by his partner, a petite redhead who was the one to make introductions and hand over their phone numbers.

"I'm Clary Fray," she told them, "And this is my partner, Jace Wayland. The Bureau sent us word that you have arrested Valentine Morgenstern, is that correct?"

"Yes," Magnus said, seeing no point in denying it, although he added a bit defensively, "We were never notified that the FBI was interested in Morgenstern's activities. I hope you're not planning on interfering in our case?"

Jace arched his eyebrows, slowly crossing his arms against his chest.

"Your case?" he repeated, clearly disbelieving. "We had a Morgenstern case as well."

"Then you should be happy that we arrested him an hour ago," Ragnor said with as little animosity as he could muster, "Less work for you guys."

The atmosphere suddenly tensed in the definitely too hot office and Clary put her hand on her colleague's arm, in a silent but clear command to stand down.

"Excuse my partner," she said cheerfully. "He's a bit frustrated that we spent so long gathering intel on Morgenstern, only to be denied his arrest. Besides... Your impromptu intervention was..."

"You fucked up," Jace stated, fed up with his partner's diplomacy. "It was too soon. We were this close to dismantle his organ trafficking and you had to interfere."

A heavy silence settled over the office and Clary glanced from her partner to Magnus and his friends, looking a bit worried that one of them was going to snap and punch the other. Eventually, Catarina asked, very calmly:

"What organ trafficking?"

"You didn't know?" Clary shot back in genuine surprise, while Jace rolled his eyes.

"We never got anything about that," Raphael explained, glaring at the blond man. "We have charges of blackmailing, peculation, pimping, torture and murder..."

"Nothing on organ trafficking at all?" Jace enquired.

"No," Magnus shook his head. "We didn't know."

He exchanged consternated, guilty glances with his friends. How could they have missed it though? They had spent so long gathering evidence, everything they could find, and still they had failed to notice something as big as this?

"Morgenstern is smart," Clary said softly, as if trying to soothe their feeling of failure. "His traffic ring is hidden behind other illegal activities, making it harder to detect."

"Like prostitution," Jace explained. "Morgenstern takes organs from prostitutes, who disappear... But who cares about that, right? People don't go to the cops for missing whores. They're scared to be associated with that line of work."

Magnus' stomach dropped at the man's words and he could see, based on his friends' expressions, that the same thought had crossed their minds. Maybe Alec had been the next victim on the list.

"Alright," he murmured, before he cleared his throat. "We have Morgenstern and we have evidence for most of his crimes, except for the organ trade. We can interrogate him but I don't think he'll talk."

"You're right," Jace said. "He'll take too much pleasure in deceiving us and watching us become more and more frustrated with his silence. All we can do is try to arrest more of his men and question them. They are not all as stubborn as Morgenstern himself."

"We?" Raphael repeated with a frown. "What, are you working with us now?"

"No," Clary answered instead of Jace, "As of today, you technically start working for the FBI. Temporarily."

"You messed up our case," Jace added, much to Clary's obvious dismay, "Consider it as an apology."

On these last words, the blond agent turned away and stormed out of the office, slamming the door shut behind him. Magnus could almost picture the angry smoke coming out of his ears and he winced: the upcoming days would not be easy. At least Clary seemed to be a bit more civil and reasonable, not to mention sweet; she smiled at them, a bit uncomfortably perhaps, and she apologised.

"I'm sorry for jumping in on your case like this," she said. "Our boss didn't really give us a choice. And please, don't mind Jace. It's nothing personal. He's just... exhausted."

"Well, try to keep your boyfriend on a leash," Magnus suggested, "We have enough to deal with as it is, no need to add a double murder within our own teams."

Clary laughed at that but she nodded, still smiling.

"I will try my best, I promise," she said, flashing them one last grin before she opened the door with much more care than her partner, "Also, he's my fiancé, not my boyfriend. See you later!"

Silence followed her departure for a long, long time, until Catarina collapsed on the closest chair, the one that Alec had hurriedly vacated.

"Shit," she groaned, which summed up their predicament quite well. "I hate the FBI."

"You and me both," Ragnor agreed, coming up behind her to massage her tense shoulders. "But what can we do?"

"Nothing," Magnus answered while Raphael shrugged. "Except keep on working and arrest more of Morgenstern's men."

"That won't be easy," his best friend stated with a disgruntled frown. "Word about Valentine's arrest will travel, his allies will hide. They'll be harder to find than usual."

Magnus nodded. He knew that. Wasn't it ironic, that the victory they won not two hours ago could now become a huge problem? If he had known... Maybe he would have let the FBI handle it, from start to finish. At least he wouldn't be sleep deprived. Well, no use in being bitter now: what was done, was done and he could not allow himself to dwell on it. He and the team had to keep moving forward.

"Maybe his son will do something reckless enough to help us," Magnus sighed. "We could get in touch with Dorothea again, see if she has anything else to say about Morgenstern."

Ragnor said that he would take care of it, so Magnus and Raphael retreated to their own office in order to review every single file they had on Valentine, hoping to find something that perhaps they had not seen before.

Magnus put on some music as they worked, as it helped sometimes to free his creative side and to come up with fresh ideas to explore. That evening, however, the result was rather bleak, perhaps because he could not concentrate long enough to read two sentences in one go. His mind kept going back to Alec, picturing his boyish face with a bloody smile. Shit.

The agent pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to fight off the upcoming headache he already felt hammering inside his skull. He hoped that Alec would be alright. If he had known about the organ trade earlier, he would never have allowed the young man to leave, not without protection... It was too late though, now he could only keep his fingers crossed for the escort's sake.

"Maybe we should go home," Raphael said, what seemed like hours later. "We're tired and dejected, nothing good will come out of whatever we do tonight. Let's take the night off, then we'll start over in the morning."

Magnus nodded, too tired to even pretend that he could do this all night. He could not. Not when worry gnawed at him as Jace's words mixed, behind his eyelids, with Alec's hazel eyes in which no spark longer shone.

"Alright," he mumbled, standing up and nearly stumbling due to his fatigue as he gathered his files in a neat pile. "I'll tell Ragnor and Catarina that we're leaving. I'll see you tomorrow."

Raphael nodded and Magnus waved before he left their office, heading for the lair of his two other partners in crime. They didn't look much better than Raphael and he did, creases of concentration and worry etched deep onto their foreheads.

"Raphael and I called it a day," he told his friends. "You should do the same."

Neither of them needed much convincing and they left the building together, bidding each other goodnight before they went their separate ways. Magnus couldn't resist the temptation of making a little detour, driving through the streets and hot spots of New York where he knew he would find prostitutes, women and men alike, and he looked everywhere for a tall man with messy dark hair and a mesh sweater, in vain. It only partly reassured him: maybe Alec was safe, somewhere far from this kind of neighbourhood, but maybe he was also crying out for help, in a dark and deserted corner of the City, where no one would hear his distressed shouts.

Needless to say that Magnus didn't sleep well, no matter how hard he tried, after fixing himself a light dinner in his loft - he hadn't been hungry and ended up giving most of his can of tuna to his cat anyway. The young man counted sheep, he followed Raphael's advice and snuggled up to a thick, warm blanket and read a few pages of Musset's Lorenzaccio, partly hoping to knock himself out and partly hoping to work on his rusty French, to no avail. He nearly threw the Romantic author's work against the wall out of frustration.

Eventually, sleep stopped eluding him - but Magnus could never enjoy the simple wonders of life, could he? He had been asleep for what felt like mere minutes before his cell phone rang, disturbing the perfect quietness of his loft, as well as his cat, and his eyelids snapped open as if he had been hit. Fuck. It was three in the freaking morning and he had slept one hour and half, tops.

"...ullo?" he mumbled, hoping the caller was not one of those FBI agents who would blame him for everything, from arresting Valentine to taking a five minutes nap in the middle of the night.

"Hello? Officer Bane?" a woman asked, sounding hesitant. "It's... It's Dorothea."

Dorothea... Who? Wait, wait, Dorothea... Oh. Oh, holy crap, that Dorothea!

"Miss Rollins," Magnus said, suddenly as awake as he had been two hours prior. "Yes, this is Officer Bane. I'm listening."

"I... I got Officer Fell's message," the woman stammered, sounding a bit scared, "I didn't call him back earlier, I apologise but... Please, Officer, could you come? I... I received an anonymous letter and I... I'm being threatened, they know I talked to the police about Sebastian Morgenstern, they..."

"Calm down," Magnus said soothingly as he rolled out of bed and stuck his phone between his cheek and his shoulder to put on some trousers. "I'll be there as soon as I can. Don't open your door to anyone who isn't me, alright?"

Crap, he thought when Dorothea hung up, grabbing the keys of his car and locking the door of his loft behind himself. So Sebastian was not completely stupid: he had put two and two together and realised that his father had been arrested in front of the hotel where he had been frolicking with a woman himself... A woman he was blackmailing and who had decided to stop it the only way she could: with the police's help. Magnus hoped it would not come back to bite her.

As he drove, he dialled Ragnor's number. It rang and rang, and he had to redial twice before his friend finally woke up and answered his phone.

"Someone had better be dying, Magnus," he grumbled.

"Let's hope not," the young man winced, briefly thinking of Alec. "I'll be at your door in five. Get dressed, we're going to Rollins' apartment. She received threats."

Ragnor swore and hung up but Magnus had no doubt that he was taking this very seriously and would be ready when his friend knocked on his front door. He was right: Ragnor was fully dressed, if a little ruffled, and in a foul mood. Well, Magnus would have to deal with it.

Ten minutes later, they were driving around Dorothea Rollins' neighbourhood and, when they didn't notice anything suspicious, they rang her doorbell.

Dorothea was clutching the letter in her shaky hand when they walked in her apartment and two suitcases were ready, waiting next to the door.

"I'm leaving New York," she said nervously, reaching out to give them the letter she looked so scared of. "I don't want to stay here."

"We will help you," Ragnor answered while Magnus read the letter and its clear threats, "We have the FBI in our corner, I'm sure they will be perfectly capable of escorting you safely to the airport, where you will be able to leave with the first flight."

"But first we need your help again," Magnus told her gently. "We need you to think: have you ever heard Sebastian Morgenstern mention anything about prostitutes?"

"P... Prostitutes?" she repeated, surprised. "I... I don't think so."

"Is there anything else you can tell us?" he prompted, "You have helped us a great deal already but we really need a bit more of your help. Do you remember something else? Think, anything, a name, a phone number, a number plate, anything at all?"

Dorothea frowned, trying to remember anything that could prove useful to the policemen, and her face suddenly lit up.

"One day," she said, "I met up with Sebastian at the hotel... But then his father called for an urgent meeting and he... Well. We didn't have much time so we fucked in his car. His driver dropped him off in Upper West Side before taking me home."

"Do you remember where?" Ragnor asked with renewed interest.

Magnus could relate: if Sebastian had met with his father there, then maybe Dorothea would actually give them the location of the Morgenstern's headquarters... If not, at least it had to be some important site and if they could go there and search the place, maybe they would find useful evidence or other leads. Whatever the location was used for, headquarters or something else, staying in Upper West Side was clever: who would think that such a nice neighbourhood was housing the Morgenstern's? Certainly not the police.

"Around Amsterdam Avenue, I think," Dorothea said, biting her lower lip out of concentration. "I'm not sure anymore but... It has to be it."

"Thank you," Magnus breathed out, already taking his phone out of his jacket and fumbling with his wallet to look for the FBI agents' phone number that Clary had given them earlier in the day.

He dialled the first number on the card, drumming his fingers on the table while he waited, until a grouchy voice answered the call. Jace.

"This had better be fucking important," the agent groaned.

"It is, don't worry," Magnus chirped, speaking with accentuated cheerfulness, aware that it would piss the agent all the more. "We need you FBI's elites to organise a witness' transfer to JFK tonight. Use your FBI tricks to book her the first flight to... Where to, milady?"

Dorothea flashed him a weak smile, appreciative of the policeman's efforts to make her laugh at least a little and comfort her.

"Boston," she said. "I'll stay at a friend's for a while..."

"Boston," Magnus repeated. "You think you can do that for us humble policemen, Sunshine?"

"Fuck y... Ouch!" Jace yelped, and Magnus distantly heard a woman's voice scold the agent for his language.

Clary might turn out to become his favourite FBI agent, he thought. Not that he'd ever had a favourite FBI agent before but...

"Text me the address," Jace groaned. "We'll be there as soon as we can."

Dorothea prepared herbal tea while they waited for the agents and their team and she gradually relaxed, helped in this by the two police officers' presence. She looked rather sad to see them go when the FBI came in, although the prospect of driving with Clary's and Jace's team to the airport reassured her.

"Are you up for a detour to Upper West Side?" Magnus asked Ragnor once they were back in the car.

"We're awake, we might as well make ourselves useful," his friend pointed out. "It won't be easy to pinpoint Morgenstern's location on Amsterdam Avenue, though. They could be hiding anywhere."

Magnus sighed, knowing that Ragnor was right: the street was long, probably too long to let them notice anything off or suspicious, not to mention that all the buildings looked mostly the same... Well, it was their only lead anyway so what else could they do?

Nothing, except perhaps go back to sleep. But seeing that they were conscientious police officers, of course they were doing this. Sometimes Magnus wished he was a bit more selfish. Alright, not true. When he thought about those prostitutes who had vanished because of Morgenstern, Magnus was filled with rage and the will to put an end to it; besides, what were sleepless nights worth compared to human lives?

Still, going back to sleep would have been way easier and less frustrating than patrolling the streets of Manhattan at four in the morning with their eyes wide open to look for anything weird or fishy. Save for a courageous baker and a few young men and women coming back from a party, they didn't spot anything interesting at first, not until Ragnor pointed to two black SUV parked in front of a building. The same kind of SUV that had dropped Valentine at the hotel shortly before his arrest.

The incriminated building looked like every other building on Amsterdam Avenue, high and with fire stairs on the facade. Curtains were drawn on every window, keeping them from actually catching sight of anything inside, and Magnus noticed a security camera above the front door. That didn't mean anything though...

"Let's ask our friends from the FBI what they have on that building," Ragnor suggested, already tapping on his phone.

They waited in silence for a while, glancing from time to time across the street. Nothing moved inside the building, from what they could tell anyway. When Ragnor's phone pinged with Clary's answer, the two men nearly bumped their heads in their haste to read her message.

"According to their records," Ragnor ended up reading aloud, "No one lives in that building. Officially. All the previous tenants left when the old landlord died, six years ago..."

"Do you often forget your curtains when you move out?" Magnus asked lightly, glancing at the windows of the building again, "On every floor?"

A short silence followed his question, that he was the one to break.

"I'll go take a closer look," he said, already moving to open his door.

"Magnus, wait!" Ragnor exclaimed, grabbing his friend's wrist to keep him still.

Just in time: a few seconds later, a third SUV was manoeuvring to park behind the two other cars. Two brawny men walked out of the vehicle from the driver and passenger sides, before they pulled another man from the back seat, a man who tried to kick the brutes' calves and run away, only to be caught around the waist again. Magnus' heart stopped.

"Is that the escort?" Ragnor breathed out, staring at the young man struggling against the others' tight grasp on his body.

"Alec," Magnus corrected absently, his brain entirely focusing on the scene unfolding before his eyes.

Even from the other side of the street, he could see the frightened look on the young man's face as he was dragged to the front door of the building, which opened from inside after one of the two guys in control gave it a sharp knock. Magnus barely caught a glimpse of an armed guard inside before the door was closing already.

"Holy hell," Ragnor said, eyes wide, "What do we do? We can't barge in like that with only the two of us! Who knows how many they are inside that bloody building?"

"We can't leave Alec either," Magnus argued. "There were two men inside that car, add the drivers of the other two... Plus the guard, five. Make it seven, one passenger for each car. At least. Maybe Morgenstern Junior is there, too... Fuck! Ragnor, I'm going in."

"Are you crazy?" Ragnor exclaimed on a tone that left little doubt on the way he would answer his own question. "I can't let you do that!"

"Technically, I'm your boss," Magnus replied, "So I don't need your permission. I'll just take a look inside if I can and stall for time. Call the team - and the FBI. All hands on desk."

"And how the hell do you think you'll get in?" Ragnor barked, angry but also scared for his friend. "I'm not sure they'll allow you inside if you scream police!"

"Give me a little credit," Magnus scoffed, getting rid of his jacket.

He threw it on the backseat and began to unbutton his shirt, enough to reveal his bronze skin almost all the way down to his solar plexus. He ran his hands through his hair at the same time as he nibbled on his lower lip until it felt a bit puffy, and to Ragnor's astonishment, he pulled a tube of eyeliner out of the glove compartment.

"Are you even serious right now?" the latter asked, bewildered.

"Deadly," Magnus answered, blowing a kiss into his friend's direction. "Now call the team. And wish me luck!"

With one last wink, Magnus opened the door and walked out of his car, leaving behind a spluttering Ragnor. He crossed the avenue in a few strides, making sure to stay out of sight from the camera above the front door as he did so, hoping it hadn't caught him getting out of the vehicle. He knocked on the door, feeling only half self-confident, and he batted his eyelashes at the guard when he opened it.

"Hello sweetheart," Magnus said, suave, looking the guard up and down with a gaze he hoped lustful.

"What the fuck are you doing here tonight?" the man groaned, brows furrowing.

Magnus nearly sighed in relief when he realised that the man didn't seem surprised to find a hooker on his doorstep but rather to see him on a night when it wasn't scheduled. Could it be that prostitutes were often called in this building? For what purpose, though? Did they come as sex workers to do their job or as the unsuspecting victims of organ trade?

"Sebastian called me," Magnus tried, voice warm and languid as he trailed his fingers along the guard's collar. "But I'm sure you can go first if you want, darling..."

"Shut up and get inside," the man said, taking a step back in what Magnus assumed was the I'm perfectly straight retreat. "Don't keep him waiting."

"Thank you," Magnus simpered.

It all happened very fast: one second the policeman was crossing the threshold and the next, he had slammed into the guard and thrown him against the closest wall, digging his elbows into every part of the man's body that he could reach. The man didn't even put up a fight, too surprised to react, and Magnus punched him under his jaw; the guard's head hit the wall with a crack and he fell on the ground, unconscious.

Not dead, Magnus checked. He carefully left the door ajar, now that the watch dog was out, in order to grant access to his colleagues once the team would be ready and he grinned at Ragnor, who scowled at him from across the street but still made a thumbs-up sign. Magnus hoped it meant the team was on its way and not only that Ragnor was proud of him.

The young man picked up the gun that the guard had lost during their short fight, knowing that he couldn't use it to shoot yet: if he did, his presence inside the building would not longer remain secret and he hoped to hold on at least until the team arrived...

Proceeding carefully, Magnus went further inside the place, tiptoeing and making as little noise as he could, almost holding his breath. Everything was quiet on this floor and he didn't see anyone, so he looked for a staircase and prayed that it would not crack as he put his left foot on it.

It didn't. Relieved, Magnus climbed up the stairs with extra care still, stopping dead in his tracks when he heard a sharp sound, followed by a muffled cry of pain.

"What did you tell them?" a cold voice seethed from a room somewhere on that floor.

The police officer couldn't put a face to the disembodied voice but his stomach twisted when he identified the one that answered the question.

"N... Nothing," Alec was sobbing, "Nothing, I s... swear!"

Magnus hissed when he heard the escort let out a new scream but he forced himself to step forward as carefully as before, if not more. Hands tight on the gun, he treaded down the hallway, heading for the only room in which he could see that the lights were on, and he took a wary look inside.

He first saw Alec, on his knees in the middle of a room that actually looked like a ratty living-room, shabby couch and all. The young escort was dressed in the same mesh sweater as before and he was shaking, glancing fearfully to the dozen of men who were surrounding him with threatening expressions on their stern faces. Magnus could see tear tracks on the younger man's handsome face, glistening on his bruised cheek. The bastards.

"You were at the hotel when my father was arrested!" a fairly young man with sandy blond hair yelled, eyes mad as he looked down at the prostitute. "Someone saw you leave with these policemen!"

Sebastian, Magnus concluded. Perfect. If they managed to arrest him, the Morgenstern clan would be completely over. He sent a mental prayer to Ragnor, urging him to gather the team soon enough, because he was not certain that he could bear to look at Sebastian slapping Alec for long.

"What did you tell them, you filthy whore?!" the man repeated, yelling as he grabbed Alec by the collar of his sweater.

"Nothing!" Alec screamed, his voice breaking, "They... They asked what I knew about Val, that's all! But I don't know anything, I didn't tell them anything, I swear!"

The young man collapsed on the ground with a whimper when Sebastian released him without any gentleness.

"You're lying," he growled, "And I don't like liars."

"I'm not!" Alec sobbed, curling on himself, "I'm not! Val paid to fuck me, he never told me anything important..."

Magnus' throat closed up all of a sudden when he saw Sebastian move toward one of his men, palm up, gesturing with his other hand to the truncheon hanging from the guy's belt. Alec certainly saw it too, for his body suddenly tensed and he stopped shaking, freezing instead.

"No..." he whispered with wide eyes, "Please, please..."

"One last time," Sebastian said, not caring about the fear in the eyes of the young man at his feet. "What did you tell the cops?"

Alec didn't speak, couldn't, more likely, and Magnus watched in horror as Sebastian raised his arm. Fuck it.

"Don't move!" he screamed, walking through the door and aiming his gun at Morgenstern Junior, "Police, drop your weapon."

Magnus only had the time to jump aside and throw himself to the ground, behind the couch, when two of Morgenstern's men grabbed their guns faster than he thought and shot at him. He heard Alec scream and hoped that the young man would seize his chance to run or hide thanks to the sudden confusion, but he could not worry about the escort for long: more gunshots were aimed at him, only hitting the couch at the moment, but Magnus knew that it was just a question of time before his opponents moved aside and surrounded him, popping out from nowhere in his back and effectively trapping him. Fuck. He could not die in these circumstances or Ragnor would make sure to write died for an escort's pretty eyes on his tombstone.

Bracing himself, Magnus waited for a pause in the gunshots to move and he rolled around, leaving the safety of the couch to fire a few gunshots, meant to protect himself more than to hurt anyone, knowing that he could not aim properly as he hurried to hide again, behind an overturned table this time. However, he wasn't the only one to have thought of taking shelter there.

Alec's wide but gorgeous eyes momentarily threw him off balance but a bullet grazing his shoulder quickly got him to refocus.

"Get down!" he screamed at Alec, digging his fingers into the man's tattooed neck to force him to lie flat on the ground.

He shot Morgenstern's men once or twice himself, never quite managing to hit his targets like he intended, until the gun let out an empty click as he tried to pull the trigger one last time. Fuck. Magnus' eyes met Alec's and in those hazel orbs, he could read resignation as well as gratitude. For attempting to rescue him or for not letting him die alone, Magnus wasn't certain. His heart gave a painful squeeze anyway.

On mad impulse, Magnus drew the young man closer and held him tight, his hand curving behind Alec's head to angle it down and keep him against his chest, protecting him until the end, as much as he could, from the man who was slowly moving toward them. His gun was aimed at Magnus' head, right between his eyes. He forced himself not to shut them, not to avert his gaze. If he had to die, then he would die with defiance and scorn written all over his face.

Still, he blinked when the gunshot echoed. And he blinked once more when no pain came, when the man pitched forward, collapsing on the ground without making a single sound, a bloody rose blooming between his shoulder blades.

"Police, FBI, don't move!" a voice yelled from the door.

Magnus' face broke into a huge grin when he recognised Ragnor's voice and his silhouette, next to more members of his team; Catarina and Raphael were there too of course, and Magnus nearly laughed in nervous, uncontrollable relief when he saw the pure, raw rage marring his best friend's face. Raphael was still aiming his gun at the man who now lay dead in front of Magnus and Alec.

Jace and Clary were standing just a little behind the police officers but they were quick to enter the room to advance on Sebastian Morgenstern, who looked as if the ground had suddenly opened under his feet as Jace handcuffed him and Clary read him his rights. In a way, it had.

"You're hurt," Alec whispered softly then, slightly moving in his arms.

He laid his right hand lightly upon Magnus' left shoulder, collecting blood on his fingertips, carmine drops running down to his palm: the bullet Magnus thought had scratched him had done quite a bit more than that, judging from Alec's slightly horrified face. The policeman was only starting to feel the pulsing pain though, now that it was over and the adrenaline was wearing off. He felt a bit lightheaded as well... Sleeping one hour and half at most and jumping in a nest of snakes with six bullets to spare would do that to you, he guessed. Not to mention bleeding out in the arms of an handsome man.

"I'm fine," he uttered, feeling like his mouth was awfully dry. "You?"

"You saved me," Alec whispered, ignoring the question.

"Technically, Raphael saved us," Magnus muttered, squinting as Alec's face started to blur. "I tried my best though... Sorry I was almost too late."

He lifted a weak hand to brush his knuckles over the large bruise that took up part of the escort's jaw and left cheek. To his surprise, Alec leaned into the delicate touch and placed his lips upon Magnus', offering him a gentle and unhurried kiss that was filled with gratitude. The policeman chuckled against Alec's mouth.

"I guess I can die happy, now," he whispered, before the world turned black.

"Magnus!" was the last word he heard, unable to pinpoint who that voice belonged to. "Magnus!"

"Magnus, you absolute drama queen!" Raphael yelled as soon as he was allowed into his best friend's room at the hospital, gesturing wildly while holding a large bouquet of roses. "I hate you, you asshole!"

A nurse peeked inside the room in worry but Magnus waved her off with his good arm, rolling his eyes to make her understand that he was used to his friend's antics (and actually enjoyed them, although he would never confess that.)

"Stop it, Raphael," Catarina enjoined him sternly, grabbing the roses before her teammate could ruin them thoroughly. "Don't pretend you did not spend all of yesterday crying in my arms."

"I did not!" Raphael exclaimed, offended.

"You did," Ragnor stated as calmly as his friend looked flustered.

Magnus laughed when Raphael shrugged, wrapping himself in the shreds of his dignity and sitting down on his best mate's mattress.

"How do you feel?" he grumbled, still looking a bit angry.

"Tired," Magnus answered honestly, "and hungry."

"No fluids nor foods for a few hours still," Catarina told him, "You just woke up. Be patient."

"I hate hospitals," he complained.

Which was a mistake, for it seemed to fuel Raphael's anger.

"Maybe next time you'll think twice before rushing headlong into trouble like that, then. What were you thinking, Magnus?"

Well, Raphael had a right to ask: because of his actions, his friend had killed a man... But they were all safe and in the end, that was what mattered the most, right? That, and the fact that they had arrested Sebastian Morgenstern. Because they had arrested him, hadn't they?

"What happened?" Magnus asked. "I don't remember much after..."

... After kissing Alec. Or after Alec had kissed him, rather. Not that he complained. It had felt incredible, as brief as it had been. That, he remembered clearly.

"Well," Ragnor explained with a smirk, "After you were done smooching that man, you passed out. We called an ambulance for you..."

"And then a whole squadron of them," Catarina added, "We searched the building, Magnus. The upper floors were used as bedrooms for the prostitutes - those who were still alive anyway. Women and men, some of them not even of age yet... In bad shape. The paramedics had to stabilise a few right there before even trying to move them."

Magnus closed his eyes. They had done it. They had found the place Valentine had kept dozens, hundreds perhaps, of prostitutes to feed his organ trade. They would probably need to find the recruiters, the buyers and sellers across the States but... The worst was over. The FBI would be happy. Speaking of which...

"Our friends from the FBI didn't send me flowers?" he asked, feigning sadness.

"No," Raphael scoffed, "All we got was a mumbled thank you and an invitation to the FBI office. Or rather a convocation. As soon as you feel better."

"I feel better," Magnus immediately said, before he grew strangely sheepish as he asked the question that had haunted his mind since he'd woken up, "And... What about uh... Alec?"

"A paramedic took a good look at him," Catarina explained with a tiny smile that Magnus found just a bit too sad to bring good news only, "He was fine, mostly. Shocked, bruised and beaten up, but he could have fared worse."

She paused, long enough for Magnus to understand that there was more to come, although she did not add anything.

"What?" Magnus eventually snapped, knowing he was being quite rude but blaming it all on the diffuse pain in his shoulder that was slowly awaking. "Where is he now?"

"We don't know," his friend admitted. "The feds took him."

Magnus closed his eyes. He remembered the look on Alec's face when Raphael had first told them that the FBI had decided to get involved in their business and his haste to leave the office. And now, if he was in the feds' hands... What would they do to him? Put him in witness protection? Interrogate him, consider him as a suspect since he'd been on location, or maybe as someone with professional ties to the Morgenstern's? Magnus only knew one thing for sure: he would probably never see the escort again.

It was probably for the best, right? Magnus couldn't get attached to a man because of his beautiful eyes and cheeky flirting, or the warmth of his body pressed against his own in a desperate situation, and the feeling of right that had overwhelmed him for a second or two, even when a rain of gunshots was falling upon them.

"What are we waiting for?" Magnus asked, already getting out of bed, "Let's go see our FBI friends."

It took all of Catarina's and Ragnor's power of persuasion to get him to stay in bed a bit longer, while Raphael threatened to handcuff him to the hospital bed to make sure that he would not go anywhere unsupervised. Magnus didn't want to wait for a nurse to deem him healthy enough to discharge him, so he used the advantages granted to him by his line of work to summon his doctor, who was given little choice as to what he had to say to the nurses regarding Magnus' condition.

Besides, he was fine. What was a gunshot wound in the shoulder, other than a pain in the ass and an arm that felt like it was on fire? Magnus was able to deal with the pain without trouble...

Which was why he looked pale as a ghost and was drenched in sweat by the time he and his friends arrived at the FBI office, in the early afternoon, after Magnus was allowed to finally eat and drink something. He might have been discharged earlier than fully reasonable, the nurse had still given strict instructions to his friends and Catarina intended to follow them closely.

He felt a bit dizzy as they walked out of the elevator and he barely noticed as his team was led to the office of the assistant director, until he was gently pushed into a seat by Catarina. He found himself facing a woman with long and dark hair, an expression of no-nonsense on her severe face as she looked at them, one after the other. Standing behind her with more welcoming faces were Jace and Clary, dressed in matching suits - save for the skirt.

"Thank you," the assistant director finally said, the hint of a smile softening her features for a grand total of two seconds, "Thank you for your work, agents. The FBI is grateful for your help in the Morgenstern's case, resulting in the arrest of Valentine Morgenstern himself as well as his son Sebastian."

Raphael snorted, earning himself a glare, but he was wise enough not to say anything. Each of the three other officers knew what he was thinking though: Wayland had barged in their office down at the police station, nearly choking on his rage as he accused them of fucking up the FBI's case, and now the assistant director was thanking them, almost congratulating them? If he hadn't felt so much pain through his whole body, Magnus would have laughed. Instead, he blurted out:

"Where is Alec?"

"I'm sorry?" the woman asked, raising a defined eyebrow.

"Alec," Magnus repeated, "The escort your agents took last night. Where is he? What will happen to him?"

"Officer Bane," she started angrily, "You don't get to..."

"Maryse," Jace bravely interrupted his boss, flashing her a sweet, sweet smile, "I told you they would be worried about him. And I told you that he..."

"Fine," the woman, Maryse, snapped. "Fine. Bring him in."

Jace left the office in a hurry and the following minutes were spent in silence as Maryse glared at them while Clary shuffled her feet awkwardly.

"How's your shoulder?" she eventually asked, nodding at Magnus' arm in its sling.

"Could be better," he groaned, "Is there any way I could get a glass of water? And a painkiller to go with it?"

"I'll... see what I can do," Clary answered, glancing at her boss with hesitation.

When Maryse didn't say anything, the redhead shrugged and left through another door that she left ajar, giving them a glimpse of a small kitchen with a round table and a few chairs. She came back at the exact same time as Jace did and Magnus turned around to face the blond agent, a bit too eagerly perhaps, and his vision blurred for a moment. When he could focus again, his eyes widened at the sight they stumbled upon.

Alec was following Jace, not at all intimidated as he stepped into the office of the freaking FBI assistant director, although he did seem a bit nervous when he caught sight of the police officers - and mostly when he met Magnus' gaze. The young man looked a bit older than he remembered, probably because he wasn't wearing tight pants and mesh sweaters anymore: instead, he was clad in a dark blue suit, his neck tattoo barely peeking above his collar. He was wearing nearly the same suit as Clary's and Jace's.

Oh.

Magnus looked down, suddenly exhausted and praying that he wasn't going to cry right there and then as he realised that he'd been played all along. Alec was a FBI agent. He didn't know what was worse: to think that he'd grown fond of an escort who could have been toying with him, flirting with the policeman because it was part of his job, or to realise that he had grown fond of a person who didn't exist. Because Alec wasn't real, was he? There had been no young escort, no terrified young man on his knees in front of Sebastian Morgenstern, only a federal agent working undercover. Only a kiss that meant nothing.

Magnus downed his water and the painkillers, hoping it would numb both the pain in his shoulder and the unexpected ache in his heart. He was ridiculous. He wasn't even sure that he could blame his emotional distress on his wound. Just on a vulnerable heart that fell too easily for hazel-eyed boys.

The policeman barely listened to what was said afterwards. He could feel Alec's... The agent's eyes weighing on him, maybe in concern, he wasn't sure, and he didn't look up to check. He tried to focus. Heard something about trials, assumed it had to do with the Morgenstern's future sentencing. Good. He hoped for a life imprisonment.

He stood up when his friends did, shook hands with Maryse when she reached out for him, followed his team out of the office when Catarina lightly touched his elbow to guide him. He did it all on autopilot, until a voice pulled him out of his daze.

"Magnus!" Alec exclaimed behind him, "Magnus, wait!"

"Will you be alright?" Ragnor asked when he saw his friend stop.

Magnus nodded, not trusting himself to speak yet, and he watched the elevator doors close on his friends before he turned around, bracing himself. He allowed himself to look at the young man, truly look, and he saw the purple bruises that were blooming around his jaw, noticed the deep but clean pink cut across his eyebrow. He looked at the young man's lips and then it hit him, hard, that it had all only ever been a lie, whatever it might mean. Magnus looked down.

"How's your shoulder?" the agent asked a bit nervously, making the policeman look back up with a glare.

"Are you serious?" he asked in disbelief, before he barked, "How's your shoulder? That's all you want to talk about, Alec? Is Alec even your real name?"

"Nickname," the man answered, setting sad eyes on Magnus - how unfair! "My name's Alexander Lightwood. My family calls me Alec, though. Magnus, I'm sorry for..."

"What? Doing your job?" he interrupted him, just a bit more gently.

Because in the end, that was all it was about, right? Alexander had done his job and done it well, Magnus could not be mad at him for that. He was just mad that he'd gotten tangled in this mess. He'd been lost as soon as he had tugged on the man's earphones, what seemed like centuries ago when it had, in fact, only been forty-eight hours. Goodness.

"You're a good actor," Magnus said, a bit softer. "I have to give you that."

"Please," Alexander said, "Let me explain. Come, sit. You look about to pass out."

Magnus probably did, so he let himself be steered toward another office, down the hallway, and he obediently took a seat when Alexander gestured to one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. To his surprise, the agent didn't sit across from him and the desk but in the second chair, closer to Magnus. The policeman startled when Alexander gently took hold of his hands.

"My mother needed an agent to work undercover in the Morgenstern's case," he started softly, and added when Magnus lifted his eyebrows, "The assistant director, Maryse Lightwood. She's my mother."

Magnus blinked. How a mother could send her son to men like Valentine while knowing what would or could happen to him was... beyond him.

"I'm probably the only gay and single FBI agent in New York," Alexander added, rather bitterly, "so I volunteered. I didn't want my happily straight, married or engaged colleagues to jeopardise their relationship with this kind of work."

"So you sacrificed yourself," Magnus summed up.

"It wasn't that bad," Alexander admitted, "Probably not as much as you think. We have been trained for this sort of situation anyway... Besides, escorts are not requested for their sexual services only. I didn't tell you the complete truth, back at the police station. Our activities weren't only sexual, I did keep him company during a gala reception one evening."

"It's okay," Magnus told him, his voice barely louder than a whisper, "You don't need to give me all the details. I'm not... questioning you. You're not a suspect anymore, remember? Besides, it's like... having a crazy ex, right? God knows I have a few of those too."

Alexander chuckled at that and for a brief moment, the tension eased between them. Until Magnus opened his mouth again.

"You kissed me," he reminded the young man. "Was that absolutely necessary?"

The agent flushed and averted his eyes, looking more embarrassed than ever. Magnus wondered how Alexander could stand in a bathtub, completely naked in front of him and shameless in his exposure, only to blush in remembrance of a simple kiss.

"I wasn't... I wasn't playing," Alexander explained. "I... Back there, I really thought I was going to die. I hadn't had the time to get in touch with Jace before they came for me and I had no idea that your team had a lead on that building. I thought... I thought it was the end, when Sebastian grabbed that truncheon. And then you were there. And we were still going to die but I wasn't alone anymore, and I thought that dying next to a man who was willing to risk his life for an escort's sake wasn't so bad."

Alexander's fingers had tightened around Magnus', a bit painfully so, thus the policeman freed one of his hands to run soothing circles into the back of the agent's.

"And then we didn't die," he said gently, flashing Alexander a small smile.

The agent shook his head slowly, almost as if he couldn't quite believe it yet.

"We didn't," he agreed. "But you were still there and you were hurt and... I slipped. It felt too real, the way you were looking at him... At Alec, the escort."

"It was, I guess," Magnus admitted, a bit shyly - Alec was no more but in way, Alexander was him still.

Silence fell upon the office as both men let the new information sink in, until Alexander cleared his throat.

"It was for me too," he confessed. "For a moment, it felt like I was on a mission with a partner, and we'd just narrowly escaped death. It just... It felt right."

Magnus nodded, closing his eyes for a few seconds, fighting the throbbing pain of his shoulder. They had felt the same, in that short moment of calm after the storm... Where did that leave them now?

"Would you like to slip again?" he asked out of the blue, almost before he could think his words over.

"W... What?" Alexander stammered, not sure of Magnus' meaning or perhaps not daring to interpret his question as he would have liked.

Magnus smiled. Alexander was shyer than Alec, shyer than his position as a federal agent made him look, and he thought that he liked that.

"Maybe we could go out sometime," he explained to the young man. "You and me, on a date. Or two. See how we feel when we're ourselves, together."

"I... Yes," Alexander said, nodding with endearing enthusiasm, "Yes, I'd like that."

"Good," Magnus whispered, before he staggered on his chair and slurred, "Now open your arms: I think I'm going to pass out."

Which he did, this time with a smile on his face as Alexander's arms wrapped themselves around him to keep him safe.