It took a while to remember that fanfic is very much preferable to real life. Looking at the "last updated" information told me as much, because the gap between chapters was going on four months. My thanks to all readers who came back to the story after that gap.

To all the reviewers--thanks for the muse-food. It was a fic-saver.

Interlude

Sophie finished pouring coffee into the chipped brown mug. “You know, you’re chief of police in a pretty well-known city, as far as law enforcement goes. You could at least use a mug with the station’s logo on.”

Joe leaned back in his chair. “Sophie, I don’t need your opinion about coffee mugs today. I need your opinion about this report.” He passed the single sheet of paper over his desk and waited as she read. “Well?”

“I don’t see the problem, chief.” She tucked a dark strand of hair behind her ear, letting her hand brush her new earrings. He would pretend not to notice, but he had a good eye for detail. He should be able to recognize this pair, after all the fuss the previous week. “Carmen put the final touches on a few old cases, that’s all.”

“You’re in on it, too.” Joe should have known. How had he let this go on for the last four days? Sophie was turning doe-eyes on him, like that had worked during last week’s mess with Verde, Mitchell, and indelible dye. His own secretary had turned against him. “Don’t you work for me?”

“You and the rest of the station.” This conversation could be longer than anticipated. Sophie lounged on the chair he had for visitors, some dark leather construction that was only comfortable if one was sitting sideways. “You didn’t want a personal secretary, remember? That’s how I ended up in charge of the coffee supply, and as the supervisor for the visitors’ desk, and as the chief consult for bringing cases to legal.”

Joe wasn’t going to be distracted. “Carmen closed the Roth case. When was I going to get an explanation?”

“Her weekly report, due tomorrow. Friday morning at ten, same as usual,” Sophie said. “It was simple. There was a precedent of minors raised in isolation by an unfit guardian. All we had to do was take a few affidavits proving that Trigon is an unfit parent, establish that Raven was in fact raised by Trigon, and then prove that Angela is Raven’s mother. Raven’s officially released into her mother’s care.”

Simple, right. He would never have the full story that easily. “Why wasn’t she in here to tell me about it?” Joe asked. “There has to be something else going on.

“Carmen is already scheduled to meet with you, tomorrow.”

He had her. Sophie was fiddling with her earrings, some new pair with garnets dangling on gold chains, and wasn’t making eye contact.

“Sophie. You can protect one of my officers from taking the blame in minor affairs. I don’t care just how Verde dyed her partner’s hair bright blue. Should she care to tell me, I’ll probably congratulate her. This, though…” He set a single diagram on the desk between them. “Whatever she’s working on, an eighth of Jump City is going to be evacuated.”

“She was going to tell you,” Sophie said.

He rubbed at his temple. “Right after orders for the evacuation went out, I suppose.” He cut off her protest with a wave of his hand. Joe had to think this one through. “I don’t need details, but I need the general event.”

“The Cult of Blood is still active. Angela Roth and Jason Blood found traces of a spell that will open a doorway the day after tomorrow for two hours. They’re very sure we’ll be seeing Trigon again.”

“Doorway to Hell?” Joe asked.

“Close enough. I would tell you all the magical information that’s relevant, but I couldn’t understand any of it,” Sophie said. “I have notes, if you want to see them.”

“Let’s stick with a summary, Sophie.”

“Trigon will come through. The evacuation and barricades will be set up to keep civilians away from the fighting. The actual fighting was planned out by Raven and the Titans, and the Justice League will be on hand in case things get nasty.”

“Like they were last time,” he grumbled. Joe admired the Justice League, sure, but they seemed to be everywhere but Jump City. They had only showed up last time after Trigon was gone. “So, we could be in trouble.”

Joe traced a finger over the map of the city. “This part,” he said, “is an open park. As long as we’re evacuating, we can clear out a full area, and leave an entire perimeter.” He added several lines in red permanent marker. “You and Carmen have been doing fine, even if I don’t like being kept in the dark.” He had given Carmen Davis permission to do just that when he promoted her, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it.

“I’ll send notes to dispatch and emergency services. The evacuation starts tonight at 1800 hours tomorrow, everyone is encouraged to bring sleeping bags and to leave valuables locked in basements. Insurance companies get a letter from me the day after warning they aren’t claiming act of God. For apartments, the manager will have discretion on how space is divided. You get to call all facilities with an auditorium. Gyms, arenas, high schools- cots set up if they have them, clean floors if they don’t. Carmen and an officer of her choice can start arranging food supplies through the school cafeteria, funding to come out of the disaster relief stipend Jump City gets every year. Starting tomorrow morning and ending the day after, the two of you will get to work a ridiculous amount of overtime.”

Sophie was staring at him like he’d sprouted a second head. “What?” he growled.

She tucked her hair behind her ear, again. “Surprised, that’s all. Thanks, chief.” She smiled at him too brightly, slid her legs off the arm of the chair, and smoothed her skirt as she stood. “You’re the best.”

He finally recognized the blasted earrings. Mitchell, the misguided sot, had presented them to his partner at the last social affair the station had attempted to hold. Despite several loud objections from Verde, they kept ending up in her desk. “Tell Verde that it’s one thing to decide her partner needs a new hairstyle. It’s something else entirely to bribe accomplices with something recognizable.”

Sophie grinned. “I’ll tell her, chief, but she wouldn't call me an accomplice. Someone sorted a few boxes for you, and someone ended up with large quantities of very blue dye. The blue dye that a burglary-detection company sent to you for a sample two weeks ago?”

Joe scowled, which was the default expression for any chief of police.

“Your faithful secretary, Joe. I sort your mail, the boxes were labeled, you told me to get rid of it.” She stole a pen from his desk and added notes to his printout of recent cases. “The Roth case was the Trigon mess part one, part two to start on Saturday, these three were routine Titans cases, and the rest were Titans cases where Carmen had to explain the presence of a fifth do-gooder. Raven’s been tagging along because the Titans tend to make messes, and she can cut down collateral damage.” She frowned at the list. “Well, for these five cases, she showed up when the fight was nearly over. When they fought Mad Mod, she was there from the beginning.”

He shook his head, but took his list back. She had labeled all of occurrences, and would probably have a full report on his desk by the next morning. “What would I do without you, Sophie?”

“Little more yelling, little more paperwork,” she said, half-smiling. She collected the stack of paper in the OUT mailbox. “I’ll make sure a new coffee mug makes it into your office later this week.”

Joe’s hand curled possessively around his battered mug. “It’ll be ignored. This one’s all broken in.”

“That one’s nearly broken, you mean. You could do with some change every once in a while, Mr. Routine.”

“Says the woman who probably owns two pairs of shoes, both of them high-heeled and black,” he retorted. “Talk about a routine.”

Sophie smiled at him and twirled, just to show off. “Of course I wear heels, Joe. Somehow, people never expect a lady in heels to be both dangerous and nimble. Anything else you need for today?”

“Messages to Carmen, you get to call all places with an auditorium, and you might need to train an intern today on the tenets of coffee preparation. Last time we had a minor crisis like this, the poor stand-in from personnel was overwhelmed.”

“Trigon with a free pass to Jump City for two hours is just a minor crisis?” Sophie prompted, doing her best to look like she’d never heard this one before.

“Sixteen-hour shifts without coffee. Get moving, Miss Wells, you and Carmen will be clocking out by eight. Long day tomorrow, and the day after.”

Sophie might have said more, but Verde was dragging her partner towards the chief’s office by the wrist. She waved at the chief, deftly avoided the two cops, and made her way to Carmen’s office. The break had been nice, but they all had work to do.

---

“Jason, we need to talk.”

Angela Roth’s reflection was not impressed. That was what you said to your boyfriend when you wanted to break up with him. It wasn’t what you said to a colleague. Professional thirty-somethings were supposed to be direct and concise. Rambling at the mirror for the last half an hour had not come up with any conclusive way to discuss her concerns like a mature, responsible adult.

Maybe she should just call the Justice League directly. She did run the direct risk of talking to a superhero, but she didn’t have a painfully obvious crush on Superman.

“Jason, I think we should talk about this.”

Her reflection didn’t like that one, either.

The rational approach wasn’t working. She couldn’t think of a way to keep her emotions in check for a conversation like this. She had learned to center herself in all those years on Azarath, but that was a different world. Azarath was a peaceful refuge from the rest of the universe. There were no wars, petty conflicts were resolved by the end of the day, and there wasn’t money. It was an isolated transcendental commune, where everyone had their own task and the entire operation ran smoothly.

It didn’t hurt that Azarath was a monastery.

“Jason, I—”

“You are good.”

Angela’s response was a highly undignified squeak as she cut her sentence off. She spun on one foot to see Jason Blood standing in her living room, ten feet from the door.

“Pardon?” she said when she regained the use of her lungs. “I didn’t hear you come in. The front door was open because the air conditioner is broken again, but the wards were set.”

“I thought you had heard me,” he said. “My apologies.”

“No, it’s no problem,” Angela said. She wondered if it was possible to spontaneously break into pimples. She felt like a teenager in every other way. She hadn’t liked this stage the first time through it. “Did you come by for any specific reason? We need to talk.”

“You left a voice mail to that purpose. I would guess you have a topic in mind?”

“The Justice League. I would call them directly, but I doubt that I would be taken seriously,” she said. “The cult has set everything up. Trigon will be here in two days, and the fight will not be easy. It will be one of the only opportunities that his cult will be forced into the open.” That’s it, keep it to business. “The Justice League plans to help. I would not advise it.”

“They are the best, Angela.”

“Not for magic,” she said. “Precisely what do they plan to do? Trigon is a very large, extremely powerful demon. Zatanna’s magic is very messy when dealing with more than one dimension. Any direct intervention from her is likely to be exploited by Trigon or his cult. She’s powerful, but not at all subtle. Superman tends to avoid these fights, from what I have researched. Batman doesn’t come up to Trigon’s ankle. The Flash might be able to run circles around Trigon, but at best will be able to knock him over.

“He’s not from this world. He isn’t supposed to be here. The cult could barely let him step through seventeen years ago, Jason. He used an assumed form, only could stay for half an hour, and the entire purpose was to conceive a child.” Angela flushed at that thought, but she couldn’t dwell on it. “He did. If he uses some very old magic, and gets his hands on Raven again, then she can become the portal. I don’t think she knows about the second option.

“I think she might be able to win. She has a very good chance, and my side of her lineage has some magic useful against demons. He doesn’t want her dead, not while she’s his only real link to this world.

“She doesn’t trust your Justice League, and neither do I. Where were they the last time the Titans were having so much difficulty? No one flew over to Jump City to help them, and they beat Trigon by default. This time, there’s just Raven, and she doesn’t want anyone to help her.”

Angela refused to feel embarrassed at such a long speech. She had gotten through her points quite well, if she did say so herself.

Jason considered the argument for a moment, then nodded. “I will speak with the League.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

He cleared his throat.

“I—” She would regret it if she didn’t talk to him. The worst he could do was turn her down. If that happened, then there wouldn’t be too much time devoted to awkwardness. “I don’t think that’s really what we need to talk about.”

“No,” he said. “Perhaps not.”

She was thirty-three, not thirteen. She could save them both some time.

Angela smiled. She wasn’t an empath, but from the way he was looking at her… Azar help me, but I’m tired of keeping my control all the time. A lady had to take the occasional risk, and this was her chance. “I like you, and would rather figure out the age difference as something happens. If you don’t have a problem with my ex… something, maybe we could try dating.” She had two fingers crossed, behind her back, and refused to look at the mirror. She was pretty sure that she had blushed to the point of being purple.

Jason made a show of looking thoughtful. It would have worked much better if he hadn’t been smiling. “I thought this was supposed to be complicated.”

“Since when has either of us done the normal thing?” She was happy enough to hum under her breath as she extricated her purse from the top of her desk. “Want to catch an early dinner? We can talk to the police about precautions tomorrow.”

Angela Marie Roth had let her emotions completely take control, and not a single thing had ruptured. Sorry, Azar, but not all philosophies are universal. She snapped distractedly at the wards built into her apartment and felt the resulting hum of magic.

He offered an arm. She took it, and only could smile as she wondered just how much of a headache she could have given her daughter at that moment.

---

The library in Nevermore was finally sorted through, again, but Affection hadn’t opened a single book. That wasn’t her task. Instead, she was pacing the cleaned floors and trying to find another way.

“Are you sure?” Affection asked. “I mean, really sure. This is serious, Anger, and I know you’ve realized that, but it makes me nervous.”

“Intellect could take us over because she took away part of my control,” Anger retorted. “My power, I want it back. If Intellect can go back to her usual levels of being annoying, then it’s worth it. I’m still going to be mad. If I happen to be a little more dangerous, so what? Raven won’t lose her temper. Intellect can cause a lot more damage, the way she is now.”

Affection smiled crookedly. “I know that, and that we’ve been over all of this. It’s just going to be hard to reach you.”

“Is that really going to stop you?”

Affection looked up from a dark splotch on her lavender cloak, and managed to smile properly. “Never, Anger. I promise.”

“You’re obnoxious, you know that?”

“Just because you never manage to keep your temper at me…” Affection hugged her sister emotion. “Go on, then. It’s the middle of the night, so no one else will get in your way and bother things up.”

Anger frowned at the large gray stain, and concentrated until it faded into pale purple that matched the rest of the cloak. She had already taken back some of her domain from Pride, and could spare some energy. “They better not.”

“Intellect’s by the trees Happiness just set up, last I saw. Prudence left to talk to her an hour ago.”

Anger acknowledged the help with a curt wave. She took one step, and stepped below a pink cotton-candy tree before her other foot could leave the polished wood floor of the library. Intellect was there, huddled in her orange-yellow cloak, crying without making a sound.

“Intellect, we need to talk,” Anger said, trying to sound like Affection always did. She managed a gruff rumble.

“I screwed up, Prudence told me,” Intellect said through her tears. “Please don’t yell at me. I didn’t know that I was ruining everything. He wasn’t even there, and everything I’ve done for weeks has hurt Raven.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Anger snapped. “You kept Raven alive for years, and then you weren’t needed. Prudence always likes to preach, but she’s missing the main point. You were angry.”

“I’m not supposed to be.”

“No. Eight years ago, you took something from me. You were the one who changed Raven’s mind, Intellect. You hid most of us away, and you twisted facts so that Raven would survive on her own. You didn’t have the power for that. You wouldn’t have, but I gave my power to you so we all could survive.”

“You don’t sound mad.”

“I will be, unless you give it back. You stole what makes me Rage, instead of Anger. That difference is what leads to thoughts Raven would call demonic.” It wasn’t, exactly. It was the absence of inhibition. Coupled with any emotion, it would lead to a dangerous excess. “I can be controlled without consequences. You need to give it back.”

“But then- you won’t be safe.”

Anger shook her head. “No. I won’t be safe. I already took part of myself back from Pride.”

“What is she going by? She couldn’t decide on Rude or Lazy, before.”

“Rude. We decided that we still could work together, for Pride. That’ll be a way for me to have a chance at expression.” The emotion crossed her red-clothed arms over her chest obstinately when she saw the expression on Intellect’s face.

“Anger, I couldn’t-”

“You will. It’s mine, Intellect. Close your eyes and let me set things back. It won’t hurt.”

Intellect grabbed her hand. “Anger, I…”

A ghost of a smile showed, even as traces of red glowed on her forehead. “I’ll be okay. It’s who I’m supposed to be. Just… try to get through to me once in awhile, right?”

“Promise.” Intellect smiled as she closed her eyes, and felt that horrible weight lifted away.

She opened her eyes and everything was lighter, even her cloak. Anger’s was darker, and she already had changed. Intellect squinted to see Anger’s new expression below the four red eyes.

“Your glasses, stupid,” Rage said.

Curiosity closed her hand as she focused on the austere spectacles, and wondered what she could do in return. “Thank you, Rage.”

“Don’t mention it too often.”