Inside, three of the four walls were crammed full of books, from scientific thesis, to entertainment magazines, to old horror novels missing their covers. A coat rack stood in the corner, existing solely to display a battered fedora. Two desks, one facing the door and another at right angles with it took up most of the space. The one facing the door held only a computer monitor. The other was laden with open books, print outs, and a chemistry set. A silver plated dagger was thrust through a number of envelopes and into the cheap particle board top of the desk.

The lone figure in the room leaned back in the only chair in the room that hadn’t lost it’s padding through tears or compression over the years, staring at the monitor. Combat boot shod feet were propped up on the desk opposite the monitor. Blue eyes glittered as they watched an animated panther terrorizing cartoon explorers and pink lips opened to capture a corn. It was a typical day at Faust Investigations and Inquisitions. At least until there was a knock at the door or the phone rang, which was more of a weekly or even monthly occurrence.

At that moment, the door opened, allowing the bright light from the hallway to flood into the dimly lit room. The figure in the chair hissed and squinted against the sudden bright. The only thing keeping the full fury of a reflected sun out was a woman standing in the doorway.

The newcomer was full figured but not overweight, dressed in a sweater, wool pants and a long, white overcoat. Her black hair was mostly hidden by a woolen hat mashed down over it. Without being invited, she crossed the threshold and ducked her head in greeting without really making eye contact. “Special Agent Winter Capshaw reporting fo—what the hell are you wearing?!”

The occupant of the chair looked down, causing dark purple hair to fall into her eyes momentarily. She had on a sports bra under a denim, sleeveless vest with camouflage fatigues covering her legs. “Clothes?” she ventured.

“I know they’re clothes, but they’re so unprofessional!” Agent Capshaw said, closing the door behind her. “You’re FBI, aren’t you? And god, besides that it’s like twenty degrees outside…” she noted the temperature in the room wasn’t much better, “Why is it so cold in here?”

Turning her head lazily toward the heating unit that had died sometime three years ago, the purple haired woman shrugged. “I forgot to call the landlord?” She asked before eating another corn chip.

“Aren’t you freezing?” Agent Capshaw demanded. “You’re wearing basically nothing!”

“Heh… freezing…” the other woman chuckled. “Hey, company girl, do you have any idea how long it’s taken for women to get the chance to dress like this without getting stoned or shunned or disemboweled? Shit, it’s only been this good for like a hundred years and I’m not going to waste a second.” She put her hands behind her head and reclined, making it a point to stick out her chest in what she hoped was a mocking fashion. “As for cold… what did they tell you about me, anyway?”

Agent Capshaw glared at her and then shrugged. “You’re the field office here in Chicago for the I-13 division.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all.”

“And you don’t think it’s maybe a little odd that all the other offices all over the country – even Alaska, for god’s sake, had at least five members while I’ve got the entire Chicago area all to myself?” The purple haired woman suddenly realized that this would take a long, long time and put her cartoon on pause.

“No, actually I didn’t.” Agent Capshaw blushed. “This is my first assignment.”

A cruel smirk came over the purple haired woman’s face. “They sent a rookie to play with me? Wow, that’s so callous I’m actually impressed.” She took her feet off the desk to lean forward. “Winter, you know what happened to my last assigned babysitter?”

“He asked to be transferred out?” Agent Capshaw hesitated to offer.

“A dozen times. They kept saying ‘no’ because they neither like nor trust me.” She jabbed a finger in the air, “Which is very smart of them I might add.”

“What happened to him then?”

The purple haired woman brought on foot back up on the desk with a resounding thump. “See these boots?” Winter nodded. “They were his. Emphasis on the ‘were’. He tried to come out and play knight in shining armor for me when some hellhounds were playing hide and seek with me lakeside. The boots were pretty much the only things I found after.”

Agent Capshaw blanched.

“Aw, but I won’t let that happen to you, Snowy.” The other woman cooed. “Better yet, how about you not let that happen to you? Keep this in mind; I don’t need a partner in battle, I need someone to sit here, in the nice, safe, warded office and use the nice, safe, virus protected computer to look things up for me and send me calls, got it?”

“So… I’m your secretary?” Agent Capshaw looked more frightened by that than the prospect of being rended limb from limb by slavering hellhounds. “But I’ve had field training with my power. I’m here—“

“You also get to be my bestest girl friend.” The other woman grinned manically. “You know; go shopping with me, rent chick flicks with me, occasionally help me cast mischievous spells, that kind of thing. The Agency is afraid of letting me get bored. They even tried paying the late Agent Tanner to sleep with me.” She leaned back in the chair, “But mostly, yes, you’re my secretary. Unless… what’re you trained in, anyway? Calling lightning? Speaking with the dead? Seeing the future?”

Agent Capshaw glanced at the floor. “Healing. Warding.”

The other woman’s eyes narrowed. “Another medic?! “she groaned, “What in the living Hell is wrong with this FBI guys? Only .003 percent of the magic sensitives in the entire world can learn magic and they waste time teaching you to be a magical bandaid?! Snowy, we’re teaching you black magic.”

“What? But that’s against regulations.“

“Don’t care. I do what I want.”

“You’re going to get fired if you keep acting like this.” Agent Capshaw warned. That earned her a spiteful laugh.

“Is that what you think? Man, Snowy, they didn’t teach you anything, did they? They don’t have any authority over me. They barely have authority over magic sensitive humans.”

“You mean you’re not—“

“Hell no. You think I’m just some Nordic chick with a bad dye job?” She yanked on her own hair. “This purple is all natural. Cuffs and collar match too, by the way, but I don’t know you well enough to prove it.”

Winter threw up her hands. “No! I mean, I believe you. So what are you?”

“You’ve been through the basic training; you’ve seen the uglies, right?” Agent Capshaw nodded. Supernatural beings rarely conformed to earthly anatomy or physics, so standards of beauty were right out unless they were trying. Except for a few exceptions, their natural forms were almost universally hideous.

“Those are the things that go ‘bump’ in the night. Me on the other hand, I’m one of those things that makes them too scared to do anything louder.” She grinned at the puzzled look Winter wore.

Standing slowly, she unfolded to her full six foot eight height, purple hair blowing into an unruly mess on an unfelt wind. When she spoke again, her voice had acquired an extra bass component that made Winter’s heart jump and the rookie agent swore she got the impression of wings unfolding and extra eyes staring at her. “Because they’re afraid they’ll wake up something like me.”

Boneless, Agent Capshaw sank into the seat normally reserved for clients. It had almost no padding left and listed dangerously to the left, threatening to tip. “You’re…” She couldn’t believe she was saying this, “One of the Fallen.”

The other woman was suddenly just a normal, albeit very tall, woman again. “Heehee, I love doing that. Also, I like Forsaken better. Makes us sound cooler. Don’t ask for details though because they’re… fuzzy.”

“How old does that make you?” Winter went for the easier question first.

“Let’s just say that I was there when Jesus Christ had his moment of doubt and pain.” The other woman winked. “Though, you know, not *right* there. At least I don’t think.” She sat back down in thought. “I seem to recall being in the East somewhere and someone was telling me about this guy who was preaching a new religion back in the Old Old Country… but that could have been someone else. New religions were pretty common back then.” She blinked, remembering the question. “So yeah, I’m old.”

“How can you not remember? Everything I know about immortals says that they have perfect memory.”

“And that’s why they’re all nuts.” The purple haired woman rapped on her own head with her fist and made a face that very neatly invoked an image of insanity..

“And you aren’t?”

The other smirked. “You’re sitting across from a genuine, no fooling demon, calling her crazy?” Her left eye ticked, setting Winter on edge. “That’s pure gut, Snowy. Maybe you’re not so bad after all.”

“Uh… thank you, Ms. Faust?” Winter ventured.

“That’s one of the things we’re going to work on.” Faust said, shaking her head violently. “Another rule: as much as they want it to be, this isn’t an FBI field office. This is my office. Has been since the 40’s – that’s nineteen forties – when I had to pretend to be a man and the FBI didn’t know what a demon even was.”

She got up and came around the desk, placing a hand on each of Winter’s shoulders, causing her to stiffen further. “So your check may say ‘fibee’, but you work for me, Snowy. And I don’t care about what your society says about professionalism, or any of that other garbage. I’m going to call you Winter or Snowy and you’re going to call me Renee.”

“Your name’s Renee?” Winter decided not to argue against being called ‘Snowy’ just yet.

“It’s the most recent one I remember.” Renee shrugged, squeezing Winter’s shoulders. “Not that Milton had a Renee in Paradise Lost, but then I don’t remember any of them having my hair either. So that’s probably fiction. Probably.”

“So how is it again that you can’t remember?” Winter asked, realizing that resisting just make Renee message her shoulders harder.

“Because I’m smarter than those other bearded saps.” Renee gave a wolfish grin. “About the time Rome was falling, I figured out why you go crazy from being immortal. They teach you that in basic, Snowy?”

“No… I didn’t even consider…”

“Of course not. But I know.” She continued her impromptu massage. “You know those little moments in your life you find yourself wishing you’d done different? The times you replay over and over in your head whenever you’ve got nothing better going on up there?”

A few of those memories surfaced in Winter’s own mind. “Y-yes.”

“See, you humans get it easy. Over time, your memory goes all fuzzy around the edges. You pile up only about twenty, thirty years before it all kind of smoothes out. Not us though. That ‘perfect memory’ you humans want is what I wanted to get rid of. See, eventually, you remember so much that everything reminds you of something and you end up… doing things to keep your mind off it.” The edge in her voice told Winter that none of those things was pleasant.

Winter craned her neck back to look at Renee. “So you learned a ritual or something?”

“Or something. I learned a special brew that kills enough brain cells to make absinthe look like a paper cut in front of an atomic bomb. One gallon every couple of decades and I can live with myself. Not that it makes me human in any way. It just keeps my lucid.”

“I’m… sure.” Winter said meekly.

Just then, the phone in Renee’s vest rang. She relented on her method of making Winter relax to answer it. “Faust I&I; how can I help you?” She listened intently. “Mrs. Crosby, I’m sure it’s just rats, but I’ll come check it out. Why don’t you take Mr. Crosby to lunch or something, okay?” She nodded despite Mrs. Crosby not being able to see her do so. “Great. I’ll call you and tell you what I found. Thanks. Bye.”

She clicked the phone closed. “Oh well, looks like the teambuilding meeting is over. Come on and get up, Snowy, it’s time to go to work.”

“Huh? I thought the rule was I stay here.”

“Plans have changed, Snowy.” Renee grinned, grabbing her fedora from the coat rack and placing it on her head. “If you’re going to learn black magic, you’re going to need to see it used in the field.”

“But I don’t want to learn – and using it on rats?!”

“Oh come now, Snowy.” Renee shook her head. “There’s not rats. Look who you’re talking to! Did you really expect me to tell the truth? Heh, okay, there may have been rats at one point, but I’m sure they’ve all been eaten by now.”