Jasper stopped the Aston and folded his sunglasses into his jacket pocket, squinting up at the weathered stone and huge, glinting windows of Cambridge. He could have Apparated, obviously, but he rarely had a reason to take the car out of the city. Plus it wasn't a good heist unless there was a getaway car involved. He reached to the passenger seat for the bag containing a few spare black clothes in case Cal had forgotten the color code for the day. Likely. Cal was already in his lab; he'd come in to do work for the day so that if people saw him around campus that night, he would have a plausible alibi.

Locking the car behind him, he stepped out onto the path that led toward the hulking grey buildings. He'd never been out here before. His initial impression, as he stepped onto the softly slushy path, was "too much mud." Jasper liked the city; no natural surfaces. Much better for leather goods. He glanced down at his polished black shoes with some concern. There would be a cleaning charm involved as soon as he got inside.

Speaking of, Cal had given him directions to his lab, drawn on a scrap of napkin from their table at Groucho last night. He squinted at it, a little dismayed to find the upper right had been blurred by the ring of a drink. He finally deduced that it was pointing him toward a building called Gordon Laboratories, where Cal was supposed to meet him since he couldn't get inside alone. He crossed Queen's Bridge, pausing to look down at a fleet of chilly punters gliding by on the water. There wasn't much of a hurry; maybe he could drag Cal away from his chemicals for a bit of boating before the heist. They had to wait until night, anyhow, but had decided that Jasper's arrival would be less conspicuous during the day.

He realized he looked rather conspicuous at the moment when two students in tatty sweatshirts strolled by, so he moved on toward the lab. It was tucked in a corner of the campus, at the edge of a perfectly kept green. A small sign said "Please don't walk on the grass" in a variety of languages, but Jasper took one look at the grimy path and cut across authoritatively. He found that if you did something with enough purpose, people rarely questioned it.

As he reached the edge of the green, he saw a slim figure in black appear from a side door. A few more steps revealed that it was in fact Cal. He took the last few steps quickly and pulled him in for a kiss, then glanced down at his clothes. Requisite black, check. Splattered neon colored chemicals. Also, tragically, check. He shook his head.

"Honestly, aren't you people supposed to wear lab coats? You're spoiling my image." He took Cal's hand in his free one and grinned. "C'mon, I want to blow things up before we steal things."

Cal had actually forced himself away from his work for a good half hour before Jasper arrived, settling things, settling himself, inside himself. He was working on a new antimony solution. Metal reinforcement was the word of the week. But he'd left it to simmer, as it ought, and shifted back, and back, flicked off the television, sat for a good fifteen minutes disconnecting himself from the lab, the folded sheets of his equations, etc. Then he stood up and went to the door, which he had keyed in with a bit of Jasper's blood. Jasper would see him emerge, and would be able to follow Cal inside, but, of course, he didn't know where it was.

For a second, stepping outside, Cal saw nothing. Just university students. He sniffed and caught the smell of frozen grass; the sky was antimony gray, sparkling around its edges with the crackle and presentiment of lightning. He wandered a few steps, feet splayed, slipping a little on the grass, and tucked his hands into his pockets. He knew he smelt of the lab and hoped the cold air would--

Where was--oh. Cal squinted, back at ground level, and Jasper caught him around the waist and kissed him sideways. Out of the corner of his eye Cal thought he saw one of his old professors watching, but when he darted a look, no one was there. Two sweat-shirted students had glanced their way; that was all.

"Honestly, aren't you people supposed to wear lab coats? You're spoiling my image."

Cal wondered what they saw, as he took Jasper's hand and walked with him (led him was not apt) down into his lab. He wondered what sort of people they looked like, who had come together for what purpose.

It made him nervous, letting Jasper in his lab. He could be so glibly destructive sometimes; he lacked subtlety in the one place Cal actually had it. And the whole surreal affair--the kiss out in public, beneath a dripping antimony sky, the blank stares--he felt Jasper was a stranger or a prop for a moment, or too poised, or too calculated, or too--

"C'mon, I want to blow things up before we steal things."

"Quietly," Cal said, twisting one corner of his mouth at him as he led the way down, clattering on the steps, bumping into the wall at its turns. The lab loomed, white, vaulted, under a hundred sterilization spells for which he felt daily, hebdomadally, monthly, and annually grateful. "And here we are." He swung their joined hands and then let go, nodding at the bundle under Jasper's other arm. "What's that?"

The irony of his asking struck him when he realized they were, after all, in the middle of his lab--Jasper doubtless wanted to know what everything was. "Oh. And the grand tour. Please don't touch anything, it's--" It was still Carlisle's; but he didn't say that. "--it's a lab, you know, the real thing, it's very important and very expensive. Here's the cooler, it's where I keep fresh ingredients and specimens. Here's where I brew potions, there's the laser setup for--things you don't care about--" He moved from table to table, efficiently. "Over there is the room where I can let you blow things up, if you like, and that alcove has a coffeemaker and a teakettle." He paused to peer into the antimony solution, which breathed pale silver fumes. "I have part of a dragon if you'd like to see."

Although Jasper was certain that Cal's lab was heated, it didn't feel very much warmer than outdoors. Maybe it was the tall, blinding whiteness of the walls or the proliferation of stainless steel, but he felt like he was in the world's largest walk in freezer. He half expected to turn around and find a few cartons of ice cream tucked behind a centrifuge. Instead he found Cal, peering curiously at the slouchy leather of the bag in his hand.

"What's that?"

He didn't wait for the answer, apparently eager for Jasper to see his lab. Jasper was pleased; he'd been curious about where Cal spent his days for quite a while, and had imagined that it was somewhat more grandiose than the lab in his flat. He hadn't quite anticipated that it would be this large though; Cal seemed almost too small for the massive space, with its endless, gleaming tables full of strangely shaped beakers and scattered notebooks. It was a new way to look at Cal. He liked watching him while he worked sometimes, for a few minutes before it became repetitive and dull. It was interesting to see him be so precise, so self contained.

"Please don't touch anything, it's--" Cal was waiting to give him the tour, and looked at Jasper sternly. "--it's a lab, you know, the real thing, it's very important and very expensive. Here's the cooler, it's where I keep fresh ingredients and specimens.

Jasper looked, duly feigning interest in what was actually just a pair of steel doors.

Here's where I brew potions, there's the laser setup for--things you don't care about--"

Jasper was about to protest that he very much liked lasers if you could use them to do cool things like blowing up other things with very large ones, but he thought he would just earn another frown. Cal moved them onward as he looked back at the lasers a little longingly, wondering if you could burn holes in bits of metal with them.

"Over there is the room where I can let you blow things up, if you like, and that alcove has a coffeemaker and a teakettle." Jasper wanted to go to the promising-sounding room where explosions were allowed, but Cal had paused at something bubbling slowly over a burner. Sparkling silver wisps of smoke curled upward from it, dissipating into shimmers that blurred the things behind them. Jasper decided that anything which produced silver smoke had to be at least slightly ace. He stood on tiptoe to get a better look at the potion, which was a fascinating swirl of silver. Cal, less enthralled, had already turned away.

"I have part of a dragon if you'd like to see."

Jasper realized how proud Cal was of the lab, giving him the tour and all. It was rather sweet, rather reminded him of how he felt about his shop. Except that Cal really didn't care about his shop at all, because he obviously thought jewelry was absurdly boring. Jasper found it fascinating; there was something quite calming about setting every jewel in place and watching it sparkle. Sort of like the potion. It was really stunning. He blew out a slow breath though the silver smoke and watched it bend and fade.

"I'd love to see the dragon." He shot Cal a smile and turned back to the potion, tossing the bag that was still in his hand onto an unused stool. There was a metal rod on the table next to the potion, coated halfway up with silver, and he picked it up and poked at the bubbling, metallic surface. The potion swirled, patterns changing pleasingly.

"What is it? More importantly, is it explosive?"

"Dragon, well..." Cal made a back-and-forth gesture and the Italian face of equivocation, which implied both 'forgive me' and 'ha, ha.' "Not a whole dragon. Part of the head. I need the brain and optic nerve, never mind the flame gland, so--" He turned back and found Jasper with his head dipped down toward the antimony solution, stirrer in hand.

"What is it? More importantly, is it explosive?"

"No! No, Jas, not that. Come on. Put it down." He grabbed the stirrer from Jas's hand before he had time to think of a way to make the gesture more playful. A silver droplet arced through the air and slapped him on the arm, where it sizzled through the fabric of his shirt. "Sh-t. Ouch. Jasper. Come on." He set down the rod and wiped it off, pleased, deeply pleased, that he'd left the potion merely simmering. A tiny red spot, a non-degree burn, was all that remained. He sucked out the sting, watching Jasper, then lowered his forearm and shook it out.

"It's just an antimony solution, and its design is precisely to avoid combustion. And if you interrupt it I'll need to start over, and this is a long-brewing potion, Jas, I'm making it for a client. Come. I'll show you the dragon bits. As for blowing..."

Significant, very lame pause.

"--things up, I have a grindylow that's gone off and some acetone peroxide."

He wrapped an arm around Jasper's waist, dragging him toward the large walk-in cooler. When he dragged open the creaking, dented door, cold hit them in wisps of white. Maybe Jasper would think this pretty enough. If only it didn't smell so much of formaldehyde (Cal had an irrational hatred of room-temperature dead things, and even when they were preserved he kept them in the cooler) and rot. What was so unpleasant about rot, he'd noticed, was how sweet it felt on the back of one's tongue, while smelling it; sort of like one's own bodily odors, or halitosis. The proximity was the troubling thing. On his own Cal tended to acclimate to these scents, but with Jasper here he noticed them with the same shame he felt at those bodily things.

"Sorry about the smell," he muttered, ducking his head and turning to the rolling dissection table on which he'd put the dragon's head. That was expensive, so he had paid for a magic stasis. It leered at them, mouth half-open, eyes filmy, from the metal of the table. "Et voilà."

"No! No, Jas, not that. Come on. Put it down."

Cal had snatched the stirrer from Jasper's hand just as it touched the surface of the potion. He felt rather like a pet being chided for eating from the table. The potion-covered rod warmed the air as it wooshed by his arm, and he watched as a drop of potion jumped off the end, taking a fast and judicious step back. It shimmered in the air and landed on Cal's sleeve, where it burned quickly down to the skin. Jasper winced, but Cal seemed largely unperturbed. From the state of his clothes, Jasper had a feeling that wasn't an uncommon occurrence.

It's just an antimony solution, and its design is precisely to avoid combustion. And if you interrupt it I'll need to start over, and this is a long-brewing potion, Jas, I'm making it for a client. Come. I'll show you the dragon bits. As for blowing..."

There was a pause, suggesting the joke that Jasper had of course thought of but resisted the urge to voice. He grinned.

"--things up, I have a grindylow that's gone off and some acetone peroxide."

Arm around his waist (which made Jasper a little concerned, God knew what else was on his sleeve), Cal led the way to a set of heavy metal doors that let out a great gasp of cold air when opened. His skin prickled with goosebumps and he edged closer to Cal. The room absolutely reeked. It smelled like the time Jasper had left Apollo to housesit and Apollo had unplugged the fridge because he thought you had to turn it off like the oven when you weren't using it. Cal, having spent more time in here than Jasper, seemed like he wanted to vomit slightly less. He had ducked off to the side and was rummaging around.

"Et voilà."

Jasper looked to his right with surprise. There was actually a dragon head. He'd never seen one so closely before. They weren't very friendly alive, and there weren't exactly loads of dead ones lying about. He took a step forward, forgetting about the rancid smell of the cooler, and bent down to look at the scales in detail. They reminded him of jewels a bit, shimmering under the rime of ice that had built up in the freezer.

"Can I?" He put a hand out and Cal nodded. His fingertips melted through the ice and brushed the rough surface. It was drier than he'd expected, in the same way that snakes always were. He didn't really like snakes, and let his hand drop.

"So what's this about blowing things up or otherwise? If we're getting rid of whatever's making the room smell so awful, let's get moving."

He smiled. Jasper loved explosions.

"Perfect." Cal smiled a little at Jasper's fastidiousness. It was a mark of status, of course. It also did express some measure of disdain for Cal's work and workspace. But he had another example of charisma paving the way here: Carlisle. According to his burnished perspective, Jasper was the dilettante in this situation. Cal clung to it and looked at Jasper fondly, through Carlisle eyes.

"I'll need you to levitate that grindylow," he said, gesturing toward a large tank, in which a green, fin-footed creature slept a saline slumber. "into the test room. I'll get the door, I have the code, anyway." It opened from inside without a code, for which he was grateful. "We keep the--"

He stopped, a little stricken, prodded himself for an emotion, felt around, and, since he couldn't find one, gave up and continued. "Sorry, I keep the explosives in a vault just off the test room, so--" He nodded for Jasper to follow him, glibly ignoring his obvious discomfort and the stench and drip of the creature, which he kept rather further away than was convenient for energy conservation.

The test room was enormous and paneled, not in white stone, but in sheets of soft rubber over metal walls. It would make quite an effective prison. The ceiling was unfortified, for very good thermodynamic reasons. "Right. Put it down, and I'll get--" He returned with the a sealed jar of the white acetone peroxide crystals and set it down beside the grindylow. "Any blasting spell will be very impressive, so here, let's--" He took two leather, magically-reinforced aprons off the wall, along with two pairs of goggles. "And shield us magically, too, before you--OK?" He hung one apron around Jasper's neck. "Hold still. Honestly. You do have to wear it. These explosions can break through shields sometimes. I know it's not--" He struggled with the knot at the back, and bent to smell the cologne- and Jasper-scented hollow at the side of his neck.

Jasper found it quite entertaining how authoritative Cal became in his lab, even more so here at Cambridge than at home. Not that he usually liked being ordered around, but it was at least novel. He obligingly lifted the grindylow from its tank. Bits of something green and slimy slid off it and slapped onto the floor as he walked, keeping it a carefully excessive distance away from his body (and more important clothes). Cal led the way across the echoing grey floor of the lab to another set of doors.

"We keep the--" Oh, Carlisle. Jasper kept silent; Cal was normally quite reticent about his former mentor, and Jasper had found him reluctant to answer questions about him in the past.

He opened the door, which Jasper noted was made of exceptionally thick metal, and shut it behind them. Most of the sound in the room dropped away instantly, absorbed in the heavy pieces of rubber that surrounded them. He glanced upward at the gleaming metal of the ceiling and shivered at the whiteness of the place, hoping that Cal would remember the code he'd punched in when they had to leave. Cal was off in the corner picking up a jar full of something white, and Jasper let the grindylow ooze gently onto the floor. A trail of greenish water seeped slowly from underneath its body. Ugh.

"Any blasting spell will be very impressive, so here, let's--"

Cal appeared near him suddenly; the sound of his approach had been deadened by the room. He was brandishing an apron covered in an alarming number of stains. Before Jasper could recoil in protest he'd flung the thing around his neck. Well, this suit would need to be cleaned. Possibly with something radioactive.

"Hold still. Honestly. You do have to wear it. Cal had on his "serious scientist giving serious orders" face again. Jasper thought it was rather cute. He was about to protest that he could do a decent enough shield charm that all this wasn't necessary, but Cal precluded him. "These explosions can break through shields sometimes. I know it's not--"

He stepped behind Jasper to tie the apron and pressed his face against the side of his neck, breath warm in the chilly lab, at which point Jasper turned and put an arm around him.

"Fashionable? It certainly isn't. But I appreciate the concern. Here, let me get yours--" He draped the apron over Cal's neck and tied it efficiently. Cal offered him goggles, and he took them reluctantly. "These too? Really, this had better not be just so you can dress me up like an idiot."

Cal gave him a few instructions about placing the acetone, which he did magically from a distance. It made an odd contrast, the sparkling whiteness of the powder and the seeping corruption of the dead thing. He tried not to think about it and let a quick shield charm drop around them, shimmering a pale blue in the air.

"Ready?" He had a sudden idea. "Hey do you want to--"

He reached for Cal's hand and took it tightly, working their fingers together until the pressure hurt just a little bit, then settled his mind. Three spells was a lot to keep going at once, he'd have to concentrate. Shield in the back of his mind, humming quietly, wasn't much to think about. Blasting spell--a lot of energy, but not particularly complicated, you just focused all the force of the magic into one location. He said that one out loud, then quickly and forcefully thought transfero potens, fingers clutching even more tightly when he felt the strange jump between Cal's skin and his. It was much less than when they'd done the spell in Cal's lab at home, just a brief flash of whitish energy that left his arm prickling. The sensation still twisted in his stomach uncomfortably, but it wasn't as bad as the time before.

The bit of extra strength made the spell a lot more impressive than he'd imagined. He watched, smiling, as the grindlylow flipped briefly into the air then exploded in a mass of red and gold, nearly blinding white at the center. The sound, even in the oppressive test room, was enormous, and odd bits of grindylow slapped against the shield charm and slid down, fizzing in red sparks and disappearing. A few leftover sparks snapped in the air, then Jasper let the shield drop and turned to Cal, ears buzzing.

"That was completely genius. Have you got anything else rotten around?"

Cal stood back a little, beside Jasper, watching him. It was so much fun to watch people who knew what they were doing. Particularly those who only knew what they were doing because he'd told them. It was a bit like how it had been with Carlisle (Cal supposed it was no wonder he didn't get sad when he simply didn't think of his old mentor; and he allowed himself the luxury of an imagination). Cal would do the equations and he'd perform the test. Today was more frivolous, but that was all right; later Jas would follow his instructions on alarm disarming and burglary.

Jasper put up the shield. Cal had always wanted to know how it felt to do this--he understood the theory, but discussions of 'draining energy' or--

It was all very interesting, how strictly Muggle explosives interacted with blasting spells. They augmented each other in odd ways. Sometimes they could affect spacetime. He neglected to tell this to Jasper, as, behind the shields, they would be safe anyway.

"Ready?" Jasper looked at him askance and Cal knew what he was going to ask. "Hey do you want to--"

"Yes." Cal squeezed back and braced himself for the energy slump. It brought with it a dizzy headache--like low blood sugar but with a buzz, a kick, a drain of energy so nauseous and complete that it left him feeling emptied out. Sh-t. It was like a weird sort of high.

And then--he wished he could feel the energy collecting, but he could only, tooth-achingly, feel its absence--and wasn't that what it was all about; that he could only feel the absence of things, leaving Jasper or Carlisle or another of life's real people with the plenitude of presence--and then Jasper twitched his wand, and the grindylow exploded. It was all red sparks and soda-pop fizz and overwhelming momentum. He could feel Jasper's hand tightening and loosening in his own, an unconscious barometer of his excitement. Every few seconds Jasper went up on tiptoe and craned to look at the scene of destruction. Bouncing. He was bouncing.

Cal let go of his hand and rested his hands on his knees, trying to drive the ache out from under his eyebrows. He'd blown things up before, and more impressively too. Or maybe it was only that sense of emptiness. He couldn't.

As the last of the electrical energy (no accounting for energy transitions when you mixed forms this way) fizzled out on the fading shield, Jasper turned to Cal.

"That was completely genius. Have you got anything else rotten around?"

He smiled and shook his head. "Sorry, Jas, I try to actually use most of my stuff. If you're really in the mood for something illicit, I've heard Nostradamus predicted someone would try to steal his book today." He pushed his goggles back past his hairline, where they did the extra service of holding down his hair. "Come on. I know you want this off. And we really need to discuss today's plan. What do you know about any enchantments on the book? And leave so the room can clean itself, and--"

He interrupted himself with silence, then shook his head. Talking too much, Ferox. He looped one arm through Jasper's. "That was fun."

Having already taken off his own the instant the explosion concluded, Jasper plucked the goggles off Cal's head and shrugged his way out of the apron. Cal's eyes had been comically huge under the distortion of the glass. He could feel a miasma of bad fashion hovering around him from the contact as they left the room. That might have also had something to do with the proximity of Cal's rather tragically ruined black ensemble. He'd been wise to bring backup.

"It was fun. If you ever have another decaying aquatic creature, owl me and I'll be right over."

In the main lab, he grabbed the bag he'd brought with him and vaulted onto the table, legs dangling. Cal was close by, so he reached out with one foot and hooked it behind his knee, pulling him forward until he could lean his arms on Cal's shoulders.

"Okay, step one," he tapped a finger against Cal's temple. "You're responsible for figuring out how to disable whatever needs to be disabled so I don't set off the alarms when I touch the case. And for getting us into the library. Do I look studious enough, or am I going to need a ratty old sweatshirt like everyone else I've seen here so far?"

He took a moment to order his thoughts, resting his chin against Cal's shoulder, then pulled back to speak again. "Then we Apparate in--" He nodded at the bag-- "I brought the invisibility cloak. Glass cutting charm opens the case, we switch the book for a similar one. This is where it gets more complicated. Nostradamus was really bloody paranoid, so most of the enchantments on the book are meant to prevent theft. I knew it wasn't duplicable, but you also can't Apparate with it, you get Splinched instantly, so we have to take it out by hand. Once we have the book, I'll take it to the Aston while you reset the alarm, then come Apparate back here for you, and we're out."

The last part of the plan had been the hardest to figure out. What they really needed were two invisibility cloaks, but they were hard to come by on short notice. It had taken Jasper about six months to track down the one he currently had, and the only way he could have gotten another one on short notice would have been a second heist, which was just impractical.

"You won't have an invisibility cloak while you're reactivating the alarm, because I need cover to get out the side door and to the car while you're working on it. We also have to time it right-- if you reset it too soon, it will go off when I'm leaving, yeah?"

He frowned, hoping Cal wouldn't think he was being put on the chopping block. If they got the timing right and he was quiet, there was no reason this wouldn't work perfectly. He'd done things with much more complicated plans before and gotten away with it. Sometimes they'd been very close calls, but that was part of the fun.

"I'll come back as fast as I can and get you out, it shouldn't be more than three minutes if I really run. Am I missing anything?"

Sliding down from the table, he opened the bag and rifled through, pulling out the silvery softness of the cloak and the clothes he'd picked out for Cal.

"I wisely brought these along, so you can change before we go." He'd reached the bottom of the bag and caught a glimpse of gold that he'd forgotten. "Oh--I got you something."

He pulled the box free and offered it to Cal, the shiny Honeycutt's logo facing up. There were also the necessary chocolate cupcakes inside, but it was heavily skewed toward danish. "Strawberry, your favorite."

He made a quick face to show his disagreement with Cal's preferred pastry filling, then glanced at the small window at the far end of the lab. It was dark outside, but a glance at his watch showed that it was much too early. The library would still be full of students at this hour.

"We've got some time, you can work if you want, I'll just hang about and watch you. Or--" Pulling Cal in for a kiss-- "we can do something else." Pause, mouth against Cal's neck and hands on the angles of his hipbones. "Thanks for helping me out on this one."

Jasper's explanation came rapid-fire, and Cal followed along, nodding, considering the problems. At first it all sounded very good--either because he'd never committed a robbery of this sort, or because of Jasper's expert delivery. Still, by the time he wound down, Cal found he was thinking of all the contingencies. That was the problem with crime. All it took was one contingent problem and you were caught, done, over. For instance, if they were seen going in. If he mistimed disabling the alarm--he had done a check, and the integration ran every five minutes. He'd have to start at the beginning of one five-minute segment.

He had, awkwardly, asked the man who did alarm wiring for the campus, about how he set up the system. Cal was ordinarily almost unable to talk to anyone, especially when he had duplicitous motive, or any motive at all. But he'd tried to be conversational. Once he got started he thought he could be almost charming.

Anyway, he had expected nothing of Cal, who was merely an adjunct researcher. He'd even explained exactly how one might disable the alarm, and boasted of the fact that disabling the thing was an alarm in its own right. But that five-minute gap. And then allow at least ten for the response.

"--back as fast as I can and get you out, it shouldn't be more than three minutes if I really run. Am I missing anything?"

Jasper turned to open his bag, and Cal, still half in a trance, reached out and let his hand disappear inside the folds of the invisibility cloak. He'd thought there were some things money couldn't buy. His family, for instance, didn't have an invisibility cloak. Well; that might have been a mark of pride, since the American Feroxes tried to distance themselves from the criminal branch of the family. Still, he would have liked...

"I wisely brought these along, so you can change before we go." The rest of the bag looked empty, but Cal caught a glimpse of the white corner of something. "Oh--I got you something."

Cupcakes and Danish. Perfect robbery food--they would be jittering with sugar the whole time. Cal smiled ruefully. Daphne. He'd spoken with her briefly; she had the distinction of being the second most annoying person he'd ever met, but he had to admit she could bake. "Strawberry, your favorite."

"Thanks, Jasper." Cal smiled half-heartedly, still distracted by robbery plans, and snaked one arm out to grab a Danish. It smelt sweet, and reminded him, for an instant, of rot. He held it loosely in his hand.

"We've got some time, you can work if you want, I'll just hang about and watch you. Or--" Jasper's hands traveled down his sides, and he pulled Cal in and kissed him, teasingly. "we can do something else." He stayed there, breath mingling with Cal's. It felt humid and a bit wrong, here in the lab, but he couldn't help but feel--excited. "Thanks for helping me out on this one."

"--Right--" Cal's brain caught up with the rest of his brain and the rest of his body, all at once. "Right, Jas, OK, we're not quite done planning." His voice was low, however, not his usual lecturing tone; though it had sour notes of cynicism underlying, as almost always. He drew back, one hand on Jasper's chest, warding him off, and the other uplifted in a didactic, gesture, with the Danish in it. Oh wait. He set the thing aside before continuing. "First off, why are you cutting the glass? You'll only have five minutes. I know it's hard to bring things back when they're Vanished, but I have a lovely space-time spell you can use to take it--anyway, basically to take it out for awhile and let it come back in on its own in a minute or so. And I think you should Disillusion me, it isn't--I mean, it's not an Invisibility Cloak but it'll do for a bit. Now."

He maneuvered Jasper up against one of his lab tables and, slowly, pushed him backwards. From this angle--since Jasper was a half-inch or an inch taller--he couldn't reach his lips.

Of course, that wasn't the point.

"Hop up." He felt too clumsy to do it himself, but he loved to see Jasper vault, bound, and stride--all dynamic verbs, all verbs that were distinctly unCalish. He backed up for an instant to give Jasper space. There were, of course, some verbs...

Jasper stared up at the shadowy height of Cal's ceiling from his position flat out on a lab table, the chill of the steel surface seeping through the damp back of his shirt and sliding across his shoulders. Until very recently, Cal had also been on said lab table, but he had gotten up to change into less chemically accessorized clothes and tinker around with the potion that Jasper had prodded earlier in the day. He shifted his shoulders. Normally he hated feeling sticky or sweaty and would have changed, but he lacked a spare set of clothes. Plus he'd be running soon enough, once he got the book. He would have to be fast; it sounded, from what Cal had told him, like the time window was incredibly tight.

He turned onto his side and watched Cal finish buttoning up a fresh black shirt, glancing down at the surface of the table, which was covered in smeared handprints. Cal was doing something with the potion now, the set of his lips turning serious. Jasper sat up and bent one leg onto the table, retying his shoes. God help him if he tripped and dropped the book in the Cambridge mud. The box from Daphne's was open on a nearby stool and he grabbed a cupcake, peeling the wrapper off carelessly as Cal consulted some notes.

"You almost ready?" He took a bite of cupcake and hopped off the table, picking up the cloak and his jacket, feeling for his wand tucked in the inside pocket. "I won't Disillusion you until we get into the library, it takes a lot of energy to keep up the spell and it's easier if I can see the kind of background you'll be around the most. You can just come under the cloak with me until then."

Cal had finished whatever he was doing, which mostly seemed to involve authoritatively poking at the potion with a stirrer. Jasper finished off the cupcake, decided against eating the other one in the box because there was a new collection coming from Giambattista Valli next week, and joined Cal.

"What's the Vanishing spell I should use?"

Cal told him, and he practiced it quickly on a spare beaker. It was harder than glass cutting, largely because, as a jeweler, he was more adept at that than most Wizards, but it did work quite smoothly. He draped the cloak around his shoulders, thankful that it was much more voluminous than necessary for one person, and held out an arm to Cal.

"C'mon, unfortunately we'll have to be quite close together for this bit."

Cal pressed up against him and he arranged the cloak over them carefully, then glanced at his watch from over Cal's shoulder. "When we get in, you'll have a minute until the next five minute gap starts, okay?"

He kissed Cal quickly and flicked his wand, and they appeared in a deserted part of the stacks that Cal had specified earlier as close to the circuitry he needed. There was a metal box in the wall that Jasper had a feeling was what they were looking for, so he shuffled them in that direction then managed to point his wand enough in Cal's direction to cast the Disillusioning spell. He let the cloak slide off Cal's shoulders and stepped back, ready to Apparate downstairs.

He mouthed, "Ready?" and Cal nodded. The library was utterly silent and he could practically hear his own heartbeat accelerating. Five minutes and they were gone. It was a tight time window. He looked down at his watch again and waited for the signal from Cal that the alarm was disabled. The new five minutes started.

Cal wasn't sure he liked it when Jasper kissed him in passing. It didn't mean anything. It was just a gesture. He didn't really enjoy it in any way, and it distracted him, made him think of all the real kisses... and he had to disarm the alarm.

"Right," Cal said, screwing up his eyes beneath the cold egg-broken-over-the-head feeling of Disillusionment. When he opened them and looked down, his body had taken on the warm brown of the floor. He checked his watch, the face of which was visibly glowing beneath the charm. 3:09. Right.

The alarm wasn't a problem; he knew what panel to detach, and which wire to wiggle free of its casing. The issue would be putting it back, resetting the code if possible... but enough of that. Where was Jasper? Cal waited, impatiently, ticking down the seconds.

3:11.

He'd Apparated inside. He had probably begun or already performed the spell.

3:12.

No sound, no sign, nothing. Cal shifted his weight from foot to foot. Suddenly he felt quite cold. He had begun, already, to think about how he'd start resetting the alarm in two--one and a half--

3:13.

His arms had taken on a strange dappled appearance, the brown leaching away like the shadows beneath unraveling clouds. Was the spell weak? Was it Cambridge? Was it him?

3:14. The color mostly gone, Cal grabbed his lip between his teeth and set to work on the alarm. Good... good. Right. Got... no. All right. Where was Jasper? The room seemed suddenly dark. Got it.

Where was Jasper? He'd said he'd Apparate back to pick him up.

3:15. 3:16.

Had it gone off all right? Maybe Jas had done the spacetime spell wrong. It could be fearsomely dangerous if--if--Cal couldn't let himself think of it. He listened as his breath got louder and louder in the silence.

3:17.

Outside he thought he heard the faint sound of sirens. A loot back at the panel showed nothing, but then, it wouldn't. That's it. He turned around and felt his way blindly through the room, feeling along wooden panels. He knocked his knee against something. Where was Jasper? He found the door, couldn't help another compulsive look at his watch--

3:21.

He opened the door to blinding light.

"Keep your hands were I can see them," someone said, and Cal felt his stomach drop through the bottom of his shoes.

Jasper appeared in front of the case, one eye glued to his watch. He pulled the spare book from his coat pocket, an old, battered edition of Utopia he'd found in the back corner of his library. It had the various requirements of shaky binding and a gold leaf title that would keep people from noticing instantly that the proper book wasn't in place. His watch clicked to 3:10 and he began the spell.

Cal's Vanishing trick was much harder than cutting the glass, but required less precision and there was less chance of shattering, which he appreciated. A case had shattered once during a heist in a museum in Rio when he'd just been starting out; it had turned into the biggest debacle of his career, ending in a three hour sprint through the rain forest muck. This would be the same if he broke the glass, but with less leopards.

Happily the side of the case vanished neatly. He breathed a sigh of relief and checked his watch again. 3:11 and thirty seconds. He should have been switching the book forty seconds ago, but Cal's spell was longer. He slipped the duplicate book into the case and edged Nostradamus off the podium, shuffling the other one into place with his breath held. Alchemical Prophecies slid into his open palm and he snatched it from the case and tucked it into his coat.

3:13. He looked up into the stacks reflexively, as though he would be able to see Cal, which was utterly foolish. The first grains of glass were reforming on the side of the case. Making sure the cloak was tight around him, he darted, light footed, into the bookshelves.

S--t. There was a sign. Please excuse the disorder as we recatalogue. The shelves had been moved, carts of books stuffed between them. He'd memorized the route from a map Cal had shown him, but it was useless now. It took far too long for him to navigate the disorganized section of the library, especially in the dark, and when he looked at his watch outside the door, finally, it was 3:17.

He took off across the lawn, slipping in the mud of the paths and the wet grass. It was raining now, and the drops clouded his eyes when the hood of the cloak slid back slightly. He jerked it up closer to his face, felt the edge of it catch on his heel, tripped and recovered. The lawn stretched on endlessly. 3:20 at the car door, and when he turned from putting the book inside he saw a painful flash of bluish lights cast up on the side of the library. Grabbing at the cloak, he Apparated to the place he'd left Cal.

Cal wasn't there. The panel of the security system was back in place. F--k. He knew he'd been too long, but he'd thought Cal would wait. Leaving the shadowy part of the stacks behind, he found a balcony that looked down over the side door. It was opening. Cal, silhouetted for a moment in bright light, and then--

"Keep your hands were I can see them."

Jasper Apparated down to the first floor, hoping that he might be able to catch hold of Cal long enough to side along him, but the police had already dragged him forward through the door. Plus he would doubtless be surprised and move, and Jasper didn't think Splinching him would improve the situation very much. He was about to start on Plan B (which was currently "think of Plan B") when he caught a glimpse of an oddly familiar profile.

Michael!

He hadn't seen Will's brother in years, but they looked enough alike that there was no mistaking it. Same blue eyes, narrow nose, ruffled blond hair. Thank God. He just needed to get him alone for a minute. There were too many officers around now, milling about Cal on their way to the cars. Jasper felt his stomach drop at the sight of Cal in the middle of them, getting rained on, his shoulders hunched miserably. He shouldn't have brought him for this; it was too easy to get caught without magic. Completely foolish.

He Apparated back to the Aston, pushed the soaking hood of the cloak off his face, and followed the police cars as they pulled away from the college, lights off. Hopefully he could get Michael alone before Cal was charged.

They kept him outside for several minutes, while officers, hands on their belts and hats, jogged inside. At last they emerged; conversed; gestured toward him. Probably they had discovered the missing item.

He'd never been arrested in England. What surprised him, despite the crime shows he watched in his lab, was, immediately, the difference in what arresting officers said, here and in America. The officer patted him down and ran through the words by rote.

"You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you fail to mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say will be given in evidence." The car lights whirled, and he squinted at them. The arresting office had him in handcuffs; Cal remained quite still. He had the sick bodily sense that this was a nightmare. Squinting, he was squeezed into the black back seat of a cruiser and, as the door shut efficiently and he was enfolded in the flurry of lights and sounds and radio crackle.

Cal shut his eyes, bit down on his tongue, and tried to ignore how he felt--as though his stomach had jumped up to lodge behind his sternum. His heart beat quickly. I wonder if, he thought, vaguely, in humorous tones, but because he wasn't wondering anything, it trailed off into nothing.

Oh sh-t. I wonder if they have Jasper.

Obviously they didn't. It was just...

At the station they led him out. Cal sleepwalked, escorted by police, into the building.

A few minutes later, befuddled by light and noise and guilty disgust at himself (it was funny how he only felt guilty once he was caught; but it was, nonetheless, real guilt; maybe it was only guilt that he had been caught). He found himself in what was recognizably an interrogation room. Two-way glass. He ought to get some, it was probably more fun from the other way. Jasper would come to get him. Right? Unless the book had cursed him somehow. Cal tried, frantically, to think of an alibi. He was a terrible liar under pressure.

Sh-t, sh-t, sh-t. He collapsed forward, head hitting the table.

Jasper parked the Aston in an alley a few hundred yards away from the police station and locked the book inside, doing a quick repelling spell before wrapping the invisibility cloak back around himself and stepping out into the rain. He'd been forced to follow too far behind the police cars to sneak into the door with them, and had to wait around next to the stairs until someone else went inside, ducking inside as the door swung shut. He blinked in the bright light of the station lobby. Cal was nowhere to be seen. Two hallways branched off to opposite sides, and a cursory glance down one identified it as darkened offices, so he chose the other, dodging a purposeful officer as she shuffled through some papers on her way down the corridor and nearly slammed into him. The dangers of invisibility.

"--the obvious question, Mr. Ferox, what were you doing in the library--"

Jasper caught the tail end of the sentence and stopped short next to an open door. Three officers were watching the interrogation through two-way glass, the conversation from the other side piped in and a little tinny. Damn. Michael was the one doing the questioning. He'd hoped he could find the other man alone for just a moment. He wondered if Cal would notice the family resemblance.

Cal's head was down on the table and when he lifted it, he looked pale and ill. Jasper didn't blame him. Jasper himself had only been arrested once, in Thailand, when he'd snapped his wand in a scuffle with the police and had been unable to Apparate away. There you didn't get interrogated, you just got thrown into a cell that was made of 85% rats. That had been a lucky escape, thanks entirely to Atlas, who was utterly mad but had a remarkable memory for the layout of southeast Asian prisons. Anyhow.

Cal looked like he was going to be sick. Which would probably be better than him answering questions, since he wasn't an especially smooth liar. Why could he see Cal anyhow? He'd put a significant buffer on the Disillusionment charm, so it should have just been wearing off about ten minutes from now. Maybe there had been some interference from Cambridge itself; too much old magic could effect timed spells like that one. Jasper briefly considered Apparating into the interrogation room and chucking something at Michael's back in hopes of attracting his attention, but he didn't have anything, Michael wouldn't be able to see him if he turned around anyhow, and he couldn't exactly appear from nowhere on the security tape that was sure to be running.

Although he wanted desperately to keep up on what was happening to Cal, Jasper realized he was going to need to be somewhere more private before he could talk to Michael. He hurried down the hall into an empty room, which a small plaque outside identified as "Interrogation 3." There was a desk in one corner with an old phone on the corner. Jasper glanced up, around the perimeter of the room. Speaker in the corner by the door. Genius. He imagined there was some way to actually call on the phone that would make announcements, but a quick look at the panel of buttons assured him that he had no idea how that might happen. He tapped his wand against the cheap plastic of the receiver instead.

"Officer Channing, report to Interrogation 3 immediately. Officer Channing, Interrogation 3 please."

He hoped Michael would recognize his voice. Cal as well, since at this point it probably seemed that Jasper had abandoned him. He really did feel dreadful about this whole thing; there had to have been a more effective plan that they'd missed, more specifically that he had missed, since Cal wasn't exactly the grand larceny type. Maybe he should have just done this alone, or brought Apollo like he usually did. Apollo lacked subtlety, but he had the distinct advantage of magic. He put the phone down gently, sat on the desk with the cloak wrapped around him, and waited.

At length an officer came in. He had blond hair and a face that might, under other circumstances, have been friendly. At present Cal found himself blinded by the uniform. Understandably so. He picked his head up and braced his elbows on one flaking corner of the table and stared. He hoped the eye contact discomfitted the officer as much as it discomfitted him.

"Now, I'm going to ask the obvious question, Mr. Ferox," his interrogator said, sliding down into the chair, sideways. " What were you doing in the library?"

Cal let the little gears click to a stop in his head. He'd sorted this.

"The alarm," he said, deducing they'd find his fingerprints on it. Please, Jasper, if you're there, don't have... But he wasn't there. Or maybe he was; maybe he was only having a laugh at Cal's expense. That would be a little like him. Because nothing could have happened to him. Then again, maybe the Muggle police had some sort of accord with the Ministry. But even if so. And then it was all. It was all. He had done something wrong. Why did he feel it was wrong, or even real; he didn't feel it was quite real. It was all the apparatus that was so familiar. He felt guilty because of the apparatus, because he was caught in the wrong part again, the wrong part in the movie, because this was the part designed to make him look stupid and sordid.

He realized he'd paused too long and rushed on. "I work in a laboratory nearby. One of the things I do is monitor the alarms systems. At two o'clock someone came into my lab and took me at gunpoint to disable the alarm. I didn't get a good look. I did, and he told me to stay--and--" Cal shrugged. "I came out and was arrested. I suppose I was complicit."

The lie had come up with surprising ease, but he was relatively sure, from the way the officer looked at him, that it hadn't been accepted. And he felt even more horribly guilty, as though he'd sunk into a pool of dirty marmalade. His whole body felt laden, sticky, heavy, wrong. But it was all a manufactured sensation. What was wrong, Jasper was the only one who'd be able to use the thing properly anyway. Not that anyone else should. Jasper was special. He probably thought he was too special to--

"Can you describe this--"

"Officer Channing, report to Interrogation 3 immediately. Officer Channing, Interrogation 3 please."

And all of a sudden the molasses melted away. Jasper was all right, and he was here.


Michael pushed his chair back and frowned. It wasn't Perry, who usually did announcements--but--it sounded familiar--oh.

Will's friend.

Well, sh-t. He cast a glance at the man in front of him, who was squirming and sweating and generally looking guilty, but totally powerless. He probably hadn't masterminded the... library breakin. A library breakin. Not what he had expected when he had begun working nights.

"I'll be back," he said abruptly, and made his way to Interrogation 3. Someone flickered into view from behind an invisible curtain, which never failed to unsettle him.

"Jasper," he said, refusing to flinch. "What've you done this time?"

Michael burst through the doorway, face tight with a mix of expectation and annoyance, and Jasper peered behind him to make sure no one else was coming before he let the cloak slither off and fold onto the desk behind him. His sudden appearance made Michael blink uncertainly, but he recovered well. Muggles always seemed so surprised by invisibility. Even Michael, who was somewhat familiar with magic through Will. Once he recovered, he fixed Jasper with a rather stern look.

"Jasper, what've you done this time?"

Well, at least they'd gotten through the preliminary part where Jasper had to admit to wrongdoing. Michael had known him long enough to know that he was usually up to something. He was Will's senior by a few years, and, if possible, even more level headed. But he and Jasper had always gotten on well. Jasper got on well with everyone. Christmas gifts from Prada didn't hurt. Neither did the subtle yet never vocalized threat that Will had told him some embarrassing stories while drunk. Jasper liked to reserve those for extreme circumstances. Possibly like ones in which he needed to bail his boyfriend out from burglary charges.

"...hi," he said finally, trying for guilt. It would have been easier if he'd felt any. Unfortunately Jasper's capacity for guilt was roughly equal to a thimble's capacity for elephants. He folded his hands in his lap. "It's good to see you, Michael. Incredibly good, actually, given the circumstances."

There was a very heavy pause. Michael was clearly waiting for an explanation. Jasper considered sugar coating it, but it wasn't worthwhile. It wasn't as though he hadn't done a favor or two for him before. Apparently goodwill was a prime feature of the Channing family. Jasper wondered if it was genetic. He'd never felt quite that much goodwill toward anyone.

"So, let's not lie. Tonight was my heist." He slid off the desk and stood, one hand in his pocket. "Cal--" he nodded toward the interrogation room down the hall-- "was an accomplice. It would be bloody awkward between us if he gets booked for this. Do us a favor, yeah? You know I'll pay you back. Cash or otherwise."

Michael would know that was true. Will would vouch for him, if nothing else. He'd done it once before, a much more subtle coverup involving some counterfeit bills, so Jasper knew he was capable. Just like his brother. He wondered if Michael would tell Will about this one-- about Cal. That would twist the knife.

"Can you get him alone for ten seconds out of CCTV? That's all I need to--" He plucked his wand from his pocket and flicked it, eyes indicating that they would be gone. Michael understood magic; it didn't require explanations. "No one will be able to tell what happened, I'll be wearing the cloak."

There was a pause as Michael looked at him solemnly from across the bare, yellowy room, and Jasper prayed to whatever god he could most conveniently think of that he would say yes. He didn't trust Cal to be able to lie for more than another minute, if that long.

"I just need ten seconds." Michael was clearly considering. He could be putting his career on the line here, just like Will did. Jasper knew he asked a lot of his friends, and he hoped he paid it back. He'd asked far too much of Cal this evening. "I'd owe you forever, you know that means something."

Michael stood back and waited, arms folded, for Jasper to say something. It would probably be his usual verging-on-sociopathic charm. Will assured him Jasper was a basically good guy, though, so Michael took him with a grain of salt. Besides, Wizards and their interactions with the real world, as Michael thought of it--well, it was best just to minimize contact and send them on their way.

"It's good to see you, Michael. Incredibly good, actually, given the circumstances."

Michael waited him out. Unusually, given it was Jasper, he seemed beaten down, actually upset. He felt a bit bad. He'd need to explain this whole thing to Will--or maybe, if he cleared it up, he wouldn't.

"So, let's not lie. Tonight was my heist." Not unexpected. "Cal--" Motion of the head toward the man Michael had just left. The first hint that he was Wizarding had been his name. Cambridge scientist of some sort, Calixtus Ferox. Who named a child Calixtus Ferox? It was cruel. "was an accomplice. It would be bloody awkward between us if he gets booked for this. Do us a favor, yeah? You know I'll pay you back. Cash or otherwise."

He frowned. Why hadn't the accomplice just flown the coop, then? Maybe he was an ordinary person, some scientist Jasper had conned into this whole thing. He'd recognized Jasper's voice, though, Michael had seen it. Too complicated.

"Can you get him alone for ten seconds out of CCTV? That's all I need to--" Right, right, Apparate away and start five hundred new urban legends. The station was full of them. It was sort of funny. "No one will be able to tell what happened, I'll be wearing the cloak."

He deliberated, tapping his fingers. Jasper squirmed. It was just a little bit fun to watch Jasper squirm; he so rarely did. Anyway, his brother probably gave him the run of the place in the other world, not that he--well, right and wrong for their kind... he probably wanted the thing for some magical reason. It was a contingency. "I'd owe you forever, you know that means something."

Michael sighed, then laid one hand flat on the table. "Fine," he said, jerking his chin to one side. "Come with me. I'll get him out. Keep the cloak on, I don't want you to be seen around here, and stay close; you can take him when you get the chance."



Cal sat with his knees up, hands in his hair, worrying his head back and forth. He pressed his face against his knees, then sat back up and rocked. He had to catch himself on the corner of the table or he would have fallen. Where was Jasper? What was going on? It was only Nostradamus on alchemy, most people didn't even believe that existed, and, anyway, how many first editions of rare books did...

He was doing that; that--he justified things he didn't believe at all when he was nervous enough. Maybe Jasper had been caught, too, and broken free to send out a phone... no. That didn't make--

"Mr. Ferox." The officer who'd been interrogating him before held the door open, invitingly, and beckoned him out. Cal glanced around, then complied, following as he led them somewhere. He was walking oddly, as though trying to skirt--

Something touched his palm. Cal jumped and then, heart thumping, peeled himself off the proverbial ceiling and shut his fingers in return. Jasper. Right then. However he'd managed it...

Michael tried to look disapproving, tapping his fingers as though he was actually going to say no to Jasper. Laughable. The day a Channing said no to Jasper was the day Cal learned to differentiate between D&G and Prada before heading off to ice skate with Satan. Jasper kept on his hopeful smile, waiting for the moment when Michael cracked. He'd honed the technique with Will. Sometimes you had to smile for almost a minute while the other man fought down whatever ridiculous moral objections he harbored, but you could always win out in the end.

"Fine. Come with me. I'll get him out. Keep the cloak on, I don't want you to be seen around here, and stay close; you can take him when you get the chance."

Jasper stood and pulled the cloak around his shoulders again, putting his hand out to Michael. His arm appeared, disembodied, from the blank space below his head where his body should have been. Michael looked vaguely unsettled by the image.

"Thanks mate, you're well genius. Don't tell Will about this one, yeah? He thinks he does me too many favors as it is."

Ducking under the hood of the cloak, he followed Michael out of the room and back down the corridor. Michael subtly gestured that he should wait in the hall, because the shuffle of officers in the interrogation room would be too risky to navigate while invisible. Jasper pressed himself against the wall opposite the door, and in a moment Michael returned, Cal beside him. Michael made an uncertain, weaving motion, as though concerned that Jasper would be in the center of the hall, his eyes scanning the empty space uncomfortably. Cal looked confused, bloodless and aimless, watching Michael's sideways steps. Jasper waited a moment then fell in behind them, waiting for a chance.

Cal finally relaxed his arms from where they had been clenched up defensively near his chest, and Jasper took the opportunity to slip his fingers into Cal's open palm. He jumped and Michael took a shuffling step, glancing sideways nervously, but then Cal's fingers closed around his. They followed Michael down a fluorescently lit hallway, Jasper glancing up at the security cameras in hopes of finding a blind spot. He dropped his voice to the lowest possible volume and leaned up to Cal's ear.

"Hold still when I squeeze your hand. We're going."

Michael glanced back at the sound, but the hallway was otherwise empty. They turned a corner that led to a series of closed office doors, and just as they rounded the bend, Michael nodded very subtly. Jasper tightened his hand around Cal's and they stopped. He flicked his wand nervously; Side-Along was easier in proportion to the amount of physical contact you had with someone. If he Splinched Cal, it would really cap off the evening.

Luckily they dropped into the back seat of the Aston with all their limbs in tact, which Jasper checked once he managed to disentangle himself from the cloak. Cal was sprawled across the opposite side of the seat and he sat up and put an arm around him, pulling him in possessively. This evening had been entirely too close to criminal charges for comfort.

"You okay? I'm so sorry, there were all these problems in the library and I hoped you'd wait, but it had been forever--" He reached down under the driver's seat and pulled the book out, holding it up and leaning in for a kiss. "But we got it."

Cal blinked and shut his eyes when he felt the now-familiar tug of Apparition. When he opened them again they were in the back of the Aston in a heap. Cal tried to sit up and slid back down again, unable to get traction. Jasper put an arm around him.

"You okay? I'm so sorry, there were all these problems in the library and I hoped you'd wait, but it had been forever--"

So sorry. And so insincere. Sometimes Cal was forcibly struck with the remembrance that--really--Jasper didn't think of other people. Cal was thoughtless, but he was thoughtless about everything, himself included. Somehow he couldn't imagine being quite like Jasper, quite so thoughtless, quite so flash-white, quite so glinting and happily irresponsible.

"But we got it."

Jasper pulled out the book and leaned over, but Cal pushed him off.

"Jasper--come on. This isn't the time. We have to go back and get my fingerprints off the alarm. You can't always--you just--" He warded him off and clambered to one side of the car, leaning against the door.

Cal frowned. Apparently he wasn't as enthused by a successful heist as Jasper was. Admittedly, it had been a bit less successful for Cal, but they had gotten away with it. He hadn't gone to jail. Nothing actually bad had happened. Jasper didn't really see the problem, but Cal was already sulking in the far corner of the seat. One corner of Jasper's mouth twisted up impatiently. Of course this wasn't the time. He hadn't intended for it to be the time; he'd just wanted to bloody apologize, but that apparently couldn't include touching Cal at all.

"There's no point in going back to wipe your prints. It's been--" He glanced down at his watch-- "well over an hour, they'll already have lifted them from the security system. I should have thought of gloves, how stupid."

He paused, thinking. Chances were they would never make a connection between Cal and the crime. Michael would see that the records were suitably altered. But it wasn't worth taking the chance. He pulled out his wand and waved his free hand at Cal.

"Here, give me your hand. You weren't officially booked, were you? No record here?" Head shakes to the negative on both accounts. Cal looked hesitant. He rolled his eyes. "C'mon, God knows I won't try to be nice and say I'm sorry again. I'm going to transfigure your prints."

He curled his fingers back impatiently, gesturing for Cal to relinquish his hands. It was a simple spell. He did it to his own hands about twice a year, just in case. It made getting official documents a bit complicated, but luckily he never really needed those.

"It doesn't hurt, and I can change them back for you if you ever need it, but I wouldn't recommend it if you plan on getting involved in any more criminal activity." He smiled apologetically. "After tonight I'll understand if you don't want to. I really am sorry, yeah?"

"No!" Cal pulled away, yanking his hand from Jasper's grip, rubbing it with his opposite thumb. "No. I can take care of it later. I don't need your--" Magic? Or help, or something of the sort. He didn't want to deal with any of this. In the past he had never felt accountable to anyone to keep up good humor, but now, it seemed, Jasper would make him--would make him seem to have all kinds of emotions. In the past anger had sufficed.

Cal scrambled forward into the passenger's seat. It struck him only a few minutes later that he could have gone into the driver's seat, but it was now too late. Jasper always put him into so many inferior roles, or slightly inferior, or so on.

"I'd just like to go home. I'm tired, and, frankly, lost as to why, if you have such influence with the police, you couldn't have arranged some way of making the--" Cal had never had to refer to a robber before. Was heist the proper term? "--the job go off more easily? How did you get out, anyway?" He fumbled in his pocket for his sunglasses and put them on, daring Jasper, with a blank, sunglass'd look, to comment.

"No! No. I can take care of it later. I don't need your--"

Cal snatched his hand away and flounced--flounced was really the only word for it, it was so theatrical and unnecessary-- into the front seat. Jasper was still for a moment, palm still out where he'd been holding Cal's hand, then he dropped it, bored. There was really no reason to be so angry about this. They'd gotten away. Cal wasn't going to have a record. Everything was fine.

"I'd just like to go home. I'm tired, and, frankly, lost as to why, if you have such influence with the police, you couldn't have arranged some way of making the--the job go off more easily? How did you get out, anyway?"

Jasper sighed and fished through his pockets for the keys to the Aston. He wasn't at all in the mood for this. Absolutely nothing had happened. Cal had spent half an hour in jail because he couldn't be bothered to wait ten minutes for Jasper to get back. It wasn't his fault. There was collateral damage to crime sometimes. Cal wasn't so innocent to the criminal world that he didn't know that. Jasper himself had even been arrested, once, and he was more careful than anyone.

"Knowing the police and getting approval before a heist are entirely different matters. You should be bloody thankful Michael was on duty tonight, or you'd probably still be in there doing a horrible job at lying." He paused and realized Cal was looking at him a bit curiously, eyebrows arched over the ridiculous sunglasses he'd slipped on. "He's Will's brother. I thought maybe you'd sorted it out, the family resemblance is pretty strong."

He climbed awkwardly into the driver's seat, book tucked into the crook of his arm carefully, forcing his face to stay relaxed even though he was annoyed. It wasn't worth fighting. Cal was just upset. Tomorrow he'd calm down and they could sort this out. If Jasper let himself get dragged into anger it would just turn into a thing that it didn't need to be.

"You can take the car home. Lock it, you do live in Dalston." He tossed the keys at Cal and shifted, turning toward the door. "I'll see you later."

He tightened his grip on the book and put his fingers on the door handle.

"Take those things off before you drive, I don't want it scratched."

Will's brother. Obviously. And he mentioned the likeness in looks--why--to remind Cal that he did notice his friends' appearances? Cal snorted and settled into his seat, rubbing his temples with his forefingers. "Stop it--" He turned back to Jasper, only to be met with a faceful of key. The ring bounced off his shoulder and fell somewhere near his feet.

"I'll see you later."

"Jasper--look, no, stop--" He fumbled, belatedly, for the keys that'd already fallen, then leaned back to grab at Jasper's hand. Desperation at being alone, something quite new to him, outweighed displeasure at--whatever he'd done. He could no longer remember.

"Take those things off before you drive, I don't want it scratched."

"I'm sorry." Cal scrabbled at his sunglasses and pulled them off, tossing them onto the dash. "I was scared. I just don't--I don't like--" Dependency. Subordination. "We got it, though, all right? And I'm fascinated. I want to read it. Why don't we both go" home "to your house and read it? I'm sorry." He tried a shamefaced smile. "If nothing else, this is such a ridiculous sort of stereotype, this behavior. Look, I've taken off the sunglasses."

He let go of Jasper's hand and settled back in his seat, feeling around for the keys.

Cal's face fell and he snatched the sunglasses off, practically stabbing himself in the eye in his hurry. Jasper almost felt bad; he'd known the way that his response would manipulate Cal. But honestly, he needed to relax about the entire thing. Jasper didn't have the patience for it.

"I was scared. I just don't--I don't like--"

He didn't finish. Didn't like what? Being arrested? No one did, but it happened sometimes. Jasper waited impatiently for him to finish the sentence, which didn't happen. He said something conciliatory instead, as Jasper had so accurately predicted he would, and then he actually did feel a twinge of guilt. It was unfairly easy to manipulate Cal; he had a gift for it anyhow, and he knew Cal far too well for it to be at all the responsible thing to do. But Jasper and responsibility were at best distant acquaintances. Jasper and getting what he wanted were on a first name basis, though, and he was getting what he wanted at the moment. Cal was digging for the keys, which were probably somewhere in the depths underneath the seat where he would never find them, so he Accioed them quickly and started the car.

"It's all right, yeah? We don't have to mention it again, it's done. And we did get the book." He smiled and shrugged. "Home?"

He drove much too fast when Cal agreed, enjoying the emptiness of the late night roads. They made it to Diagon in record time, Cal clutching at the dashboard as usual. Jasper was going to have to have words with him about leaving fingernail gouges. Again. Really, it had only been that one lorry, and the Peugeot, and maybe a cow. Cal needed to relax. He would fix the dents in the morning.

Upstairs, he settled onto the study sofa with book in hand, and patted the space next to him.

"C'mon then. It will be like story time, but with more chemical equations."

His stint in jail had made Jasper's driving no less nerve-wracking. Say something? No. Hardly. Not even the idea crossed his mind; Cal had been jolted back into his own skin, and it was horribly meager. Back, in other words, into the tattered place from which comparison with Jasper was sublime illumination by a God. It was more comfortable. There were fewer fights. It felt--at once--less and less true. But he did need Jasper. No. He loved Jasper, obviously. Even though he was absurdly frustrating sometimes.

And he could understand how irritating emotionality could be.

When they had arrived home and Cal had extricated his fingernails from the dashboard and tried to get the hairs on the back of his neck to relax, he thought further on the idea. Jasper, in typically chipper form, clattered up the stairs ahead of him, and Cal followed, dragging one palm over the wall.

"C'mon then. It will be like story time, but with more chemical equations."

"So exactly like story time." Cal settled beside Jasper on the couch, swinging one leg over his. Shameless. But it did shame him--acting like this. It was somehow female and somehow--well--not gay, that wasn't--obviously--

Anyway.

He hated this, he hated how his thoughts broke up and fragmented around Jasper, into ill-disciplined and amorphous things. Emotions, moved by--moved by themselves. It was not enough to be uncertain, one had to feel it, and he did, but he found it even less productive than most other truths were.

"Look, I don't like all of that stupid stuff either, all right? I'm ashamed of myself." He flicked open the book and peered over Jasper's shoulder. "Oh, wow. I think that's a primitive calculus. That's really--"

Cal flopped down onto the couch close to him, one leg over Jasper's comfortably. It was one of their habitual positions in the study, and Jasper flicked his wand to start the fire that completed the scene. He handed the book over to Cal. They did this occasionally, particularly if Jasper couldn't sleep. Cal had a rather calming voice for reading; he never stumbled over words in that jarring way that most people did that made reading aloud so unbearable. It was like having a personal book on tape. If Jasper wanted to sleep he suggested a physics book.

"Look, I don't like all of that stupid stuff either, all right? I'm ashamed of myself." He hurriedly opened the book, slipping past the previous comment, and looked down at the first page. "Oh, wow. I think that's a primitive calculus. That's really--"

Jasper didn't look down at the book yet. Instead he put an arm around Cal's shoulders, free hand on the leg across his own knees. He never thought about being ashamed of things, especially. He wasn't ashamed of things. It was always rather a surprise when Cal brought it up, especially in relation to things that Jasper barely gave a second thought to. So he'd been upset about being arrested. That was normal. Not something to be especially ashamed of.

"Cal, c'mon. You don't have to be ashamed of it. I was horrible when I got chucked in Thai prison. No one handles it well, yeah? I'm sorry I didn't set up the heist better. But we got it anyhow, didn't we?"

He sighed at the downturned corners of Cal's mouth and resettled them slightly, finding the blanket he always kept on the back of the couch and leaning against Cal, who always sat just behind him and read peering over his shoulder, his breath warm against Jasper's ear. The book was a little too far from Cal's face; for someone so disinterested in appearances he was rather vain in his refusal to wear glasses. He craned his neck sideways and kissed Cal quickly.

"You were ace, don't worry about it. I couldn't have done the heist alone. Now read to me all about how rich I'm going to be once I can make my own gold. I promise I'll try to stay awake."

"Cal, c'mon. You don't have to be ashamed of it. I was horrible when I got chucked in Thai prison. No one handles it well, yeah? I'm sorry I didn't set up the heist better. But we got it anyhow, didn't we?"

Right. It was all entirely fine. Jasper kissed him carefully, as though he were tucking something away into its place, one corner of his mouth, then the other. It felt wonderful. Cal rested his chin on Jasper's shoulder and squinted at the book. Jasper was saying something, but Cal got lost in the spidery writing delineating the calculus equation. He squinted, tipped his head back...

--caught part of what Jasper had said.

"Thai prison?" He drew back and stared at Jasper, shaking the squint from his eyelids. "When did that happen?" It didn't seem very much like Jasper to get stuck in prison. He had magic, for one, and, well--he was Jasper. Cal had always taken his stories of his criminal past with a grain of salt. Obviously they had happened; Jasper was a liar, and a beautiful liar--which made his lies excusable--but he saw no reason why he would lie about something like this. It was only that all of his other stories involved some sort of victory.

"You don't need to make something up to make me feel better." He leaned sideways and bit at Jasper's ear. "I feel better anyway. I feel fine. I'm glad you rescued me." One side of his mouth quirked down. Rescued--oh well.

"Thai prison?"

Cal looked surprised, his eyes refocusing from the wavering handwriting inside the book to glance sharply at Jasper. His obvious skepticism was flattering, anyway. Jasper was certain that Cal would have heard this story by now; if nothing else, it seemed like the sort of thing Atlas would tell Cal to wind him up. But he supposed that with Atlas' remarkable gift for annoyance, it might take him some time to get through all the potential ways to bother someone. Especially since it was so painfully easy with Cal. Who was still studying him curiously.

"You don't need to make something up to make me feel better." He leaned sideways and bit at Jasper's ear. "I feel better anyway. I feel fine. I'm glad you rescued me."

Jasper laughed a bit at that. He probably shouldn't have, but the phrase made it sound so much more gallant than had actually been the case. Rescuing someone generally involved some kind of daring escape and possibly a sword fight, not getting your mate's brother to unlock a door for you because you have some embarrassing drunken photos of him from college. But hey, if Cal wanted to delude himself to Jasper's advantage, Jasper wasn't going to be the one to correct him. His ideas of grandeur would be lowered soon enough, anyhow. The Thai prison story wasn't exactly one of Jasper's finest moments. He could have refused to tell it, but he suspected it would make Cal feel better about his own mishaps.

"I'm not making it up." He sighed. "I was nineteen and still doing heists to get enough money for the shop, and I got caught in this temple in Thailand. The police snapped my wand before I could get away. Thai prison is disgusting, I swear the floor was made of old chopped up rats."

He still shuddered at the thought. The moment when Atlas had knocked him over was still a personal low point in his life, second only to the time there had been some glitch in the magical illumination at Hogwarts and he'd been forced to dress in the dark, only to find later that he was wearing black socks with brown shoes.

"Atlas broke me out, actually. Say what you will about the man, his knowledge of prisons in underdeveloped nations is fairly remarkable." He leaned back and looked at Cal sternly. "Remember this moment, that was your entire lifetime quota of embarrassing Jasper stories."