Work Text:
‘DISAPPEARANCES’, Michael typed on a quiet Tuesday afternoon. He printed the label out, hesitated, and printed out twenty more of them.
‘MORALLY QUESTIONABLE SCIENTISTS,’ he typed next. This time he printed out ten. Those should probably do. Evil scientists were less common than disappearances.
Organizing the case files wasn’t an easy task. Since many of the cases or the evidence involved in them were intertwined with each other, it was impossible to categorize anything according to just one aspect. How would you alphabetize files, when ‘ASSAULTS’ could be just as central to a case as ‘ZEBRAS’? That’s why he ended up revisiting his filing system almost weekly, always coming up with new ideas to connect them.
And that’s why he had piles of different labels on his desk, ready to be attached on boxes and folders. Michael hadn’t realized how many of them there were – he supposed he should dedicate a separate folder just so he could create an index for them.
He sighed. Not because he had complicated paperwork to do. No, that was exciting. It made him feel like he was uncovering important conspiracies. And besides, he liked to have things in order. He was half in love with his brand-new label maker. It had a small keyboard and everything.
But the label maker was making his head buzz with questions, because Dirk had given it to him that morning, exactly two months after their first kiss, and he didn’t know what it meant. Was it some sort of anniversary present? Or, if not directly an anniversary present, maybe an acknowledgement of the event? A nod? A message?
Not that he himself had marked their first kiss down in his calendar or anything.
Okay, fine, of course he had.
But did Dirk know it? Had the label maker merely been a random – but thoughtful – present, or had he intended to give it on this particular day? He wasn’t sure that Dirk even obeyed the laws of time. He never knew what day of the week it was, and he had literally time travelled in the past. So, his present must have been a coincidence.
Even if it was just a coincidence, it still made him think about his… thing with Dirk. Everything was fine between them. More than fine; even though life with a holistic detective was weird as hell, he was so happy to have ended up where he was. He felt like they really understood each other, that they fit together like magnets despite their differences.
But their thing just… lacked a label. And it made Michael wonder sometimes where all of this was going. He felt hesitant to bring it up in case Dirk didn’t want to define it. Dirk was always so vocal about everything, haphazardly but enthusiastically leading his agency and even jokingly bossing Michael around. Michael assumed that if Dirk wanted to make their thing into an official Thing then surely he’d say so.
And so, careful not to ruin a good thing, Michael thought he should probably just wait for Dirk’s lead.
He looked at his label maker. Did it matter if he didn’t know what Dirk had specifically meant when he gave it to him? Well, a little. He couldn’t deny it. But he did know that Dirk cared about him, label maker or no.
Returning to work, he picked the little machine up again and ghosted his fingers over the keyboard, hesitating. There was a folder in the file cabinet which was completely empty. He kept it empty deliberately, because in his mind he had assigned a purpose for it. There just hadn’t been any cases relevant to it yet. And there was no reason to give a title for something that hasn’t happened.
But, feeling a bit optimistic, he made a title for it anyway.
‘EXTRATERRESTIAL ENCOUNTERS’
Later that day, Michael smiled as the agency’s door swung open and Dirk bounced in enthusiastically, immediately fixing his eyes on Michael and making his way towards his desk.
Even though Michael had been working for him for a while now, he was still slightly in awe of Dirk and to his embarrassment blushed almost every time Dirk approached his desk. It probably had something to do with the fact that Dirk was so unpredictable and energetic that he made Michael’s head spin a bit sometimes. And then there was the holisticness. Even though it was something that just happened to Dirk instead of a superpower, it was still so… cool. He was used to it, yes, and things weren’t chaotic all the time, but sometimes when he thought about the fact that he was fooling around with someone so interesting who also happened to be his boss, well. It made him feel a bit flustered. But in a nice way.
Then again, Dirk was also a massive dork. And, even annoying at times too. But that only made Michael’s feelings fonder.
“New plant or Mona?” Dirk asked, pointing to the areca palm in the corner of the room while hopping to sit on Michael’s desk.
“Just Mona,” Michael replied.
His initial wariness of Mona had dissipated almost completely, with the help of an arrangement he’d made with her. They’d agreed that if she wanted to be a desk item, she would situate herself on a small area designated on the desk. Michael had used duct tape to dedicate a small square at the far end of the desk for her. That way he didn’t need to worry about her scaring the living shit out of him. He liked to know if whatever office supply he was using at a time was real or, in fact, a holistic actress.
And in a way, it was nice to have company sometimes when the others were out. She didn’t speak most of the time, but Michael liked to think of it as companionable silence.
“Nice. Livens up the place,” Dirk said smilingly, and stretched his legs out towards Michael’s office chair. He then hooked his feet behind the chair’s back so he could pull the chair towards him and therefore get Michael within kissing distance.
Michael found himself craning his head upwards automatically to meet his lips.
“Hi,” Dirk added.
“Hi,” Michael replied fondly, and gave Dirk a brief, appreciative once-over. He was wearing his bright yellow leather jacket, which was way more colour than Michael would be comfortable wearing himself, but which looked perfect on Dirk. But most importantly: “I see you’re still in one piece.”
“Yeah,” Dirk said. “It was as boring as it sounded. There was some soot and what looked like pieces of a car or something like that but that’s about it.”
Good, Michael thought with relief.
Someone had called their agency that morning to inform them that there’d been some suspicious smoke near a parking lot on the other side of the city, so Dirk and Todd had gone over to check, mostly because they had nothing else to do. Sometimes people who knew about their agency called them not to offer a case but to tip them off about anything ‘weird’ going on in the city for the sake of their own peace of mind. In this case, it had probably just been some teens blowing up trash or something.
It was quiet on the case-front at the moment, as it sometimes was. Michael didn’t mind one bit, because Farah was currently in Bergsberg with Tina and he didn’t want Dirk and Todd to get into anything dangerous while she was away, unable to protect them. Sure, Michael could handle a gun, but his nerves really weren’t made for a job like that. He much preferred sitting at his desk or occasionally getting to see weird stuff with Dirk. But luckily the girls were due to return soon.
“What are you going to do for the rest of the day, then?” Michael asked.
“Bother you, of course,” Dirk said with a gleeful little glint in his eye before leaning down to kiss him again.
Michael wasn’t surprised. He kissed him back. It was hard not to kiss him or to stop once he’d started; Dirk was such an enthusiastic kisser that Michael always found himself going along with him. Dirk was even kind of clumsy at it sometimes, but in a similar way as his personality was: excited and a bit over the top, in a cute way. Michael had learned to slow him down if needed, but he was in no way an expert in making out either.
“Mmm,” Dirk hummed in between kisses. His hands were in Michael’s hair, carding through it. It was getting to a point where he’d like to get a haircut, but Dirk liked it when it started curling on his forehead. “Come upstairs?”
Michael tried to find his way back to reality. He felt fuzzy.
“Where’s Todd?” he asked with a frown.
“We passed by a music shop. He stayed behind to buy guitar strings,” Dirk said quickly, sounding disinterested in the whereabouts of Todd right now.
“No one to mind the agency, then,” Michael pointed out.
“Mona,” Dirk said.
“Mona doesn’t like answering the phone.”
“Has the phone even rung since morning?” Dirk asked with doubt in his voice.
“No, which means it might?” Michael said. He couldn’t help a small smile. Truthfully, he didn’t expect any important cases to spring up, but you never knew. Since he’d been specifically hired to mind the desk, he felt a bit opposed to the idea of abandoning it during office hours, no matter how tempting the offer was.
“Are you talking about fate?” Dirk asked, surprised. “That’s a very holistic statement.”
“Just probability, sir,” Michael replied with a teasing note in his voice. It was hard coming up with nicknames for Dirk, so he still used ‘sir’ ironically. It was such a ridiculous title for Dirk that he used it partly out of revenge because Dirk kept calling him ‘Marv’.
“Hmh,” Dirk huffed, narrowing his eyes. “Do you have time for an ‘office meeting’ then?”
Michael pretended to look at his calendar.
“Yep,” he said, making Dirk grin. Then, because he remembered the label maker and thought it might be best to remember Dirk in some way in case it had been intended as a significant present, he added: “I can order us pizza later?”
“I like the way you think,” Dirk said, hopping off the desk.
“You don’t think I need to write down the tabs for you, or anything?” Todd asked.
“Nooo, no. I can remember them. It’s easier if you just play the bass lines on me, and then I can copy it,” Mona said, in her human form.
“You don’t think it’s weird?” Todd asked.
“No, of course not, silly! Is it weird if Dirk uses me as a motorcycle? Is it weird if Assistent uses me as a pen?” she asked.
“Yes,” Michael butted in casually, while continuing to make coffee for them and himself.
“Oh, that’s cool, then!” Todd continued the conversation with her.
Todd had taken an active interest in his music again. He’d started writing new Mexican Funeral songs, taking a more post-punk direction this time. Until recently, it had been something that he had only been working on by himself, but Mona had taken an interest in his project. Whenever Mona was in her human form, she and Todd liked to hang out at the agency. Michael had witnessed them becoming fast friends, and then Todd had complained out loud that he had nobody to jam with, to which Mona had helpfully informed that she can transform into any instrument and then be able to ‘play’ herself.
Even though Michael was getting used to her abilities, it was still surreal seeing her just lay down on the floor, become an instrument, and then see the strings being plucked by themselves, as if by an invisible hand.
Michael put the kettle on for Dirk as well, who was doing something upstairs.
“It would be so cool to revive the band, you know. Have a small tour again, maybe. Or do a one-time gig and see if it could lead somewhere,” Todd mused. “We could perform the old favorites and some new material.”
“Who’d you have in it?” Michael asked partly out of politeness but also because he was mildly interested in the topic. He liked hearing conversations in the agency while he puttered about doing whatever little work he had. It was nice being in the background, occasionally being included but feeling like he didn’t have to participate in the discussions if he didn’t feel like it.
“Definitely not my old band members,” Todd said with a grimace that looked a little ashamed. It sounded like there was some history there, but Michael didn’t ask.
“But…,” Todd muttered. “It’d be cool to get Amanda on the drums. But I don’t know… if she’d do it.”
“Your sister?” Michael asked. The witchy one, who runs with anarchist vampires? he added in his mind.
“Yeah. She might be busy, though,” Todd said hesitantly. “I mean, she’s out there doing important heroic stuff. Finding other holistic people and protecting them.”
“But why don’t you ask?” Mona suggested in an excited but whispery voice, with childish innocence. “I’d like to meet her.”
“Maybe,” Todd said. “I just don’t know how to ask her not to bring her friends without sounding like a douche.”
Michael hummed in agreement.
Farah and Tina returned just in good time, when Michael had accepted a case for them which involved genetically enhanced, murderous pigeons. Another file for the ‘MORALLY QUESTIONABLE SCIENTISTS’ folder, although they weren’t exactly sure who was behind it. But knowing this job, it was probably some shady person doing experiments. The pigeons, though, were definitely new.
The agency was bustling again, although the pigeons were not too time consuming. Michael hoped they weren’t connected to anything bigger or worse, but he’d quickly learned that in this job, everything was always connected to something. They just didn’t always know which case was connected to which, except in hindsight.
One morning, as he was typing pigeon-related reports, Farah came in and grabbed a cup of coffee. Michael felt a bit surprised, as he didn’t often end up in the same room alone with her because she was usually out doing important stuff or was accompanied by Dirk and Todd or, mostly, Tina. But as it happened, all the others were late sleepers who didn’t really care about their agency’s opening times. Which were very arbitrary and tended to change according to what Dirk wanted, yes, but still. Michael and Farah both liked to have some semblance of order in their lives and getting up early was a way to do that.
Not that it even was that early. It was 10 AM. The others were just lazy. Except Michael could excuse Tina, because she technically didn’t even work for the agency, she just stuck around sometimes and helped out.
Farah didn’t appear to have any remaining distrust towards Michael, for which he was grateful. He’d understood her initial reaction, of course, but it was nice to feel trusted and accepted by Dirk’s friends. For his part, he wasn’t so intimidated by her anymore either. Strangely enough, he had way more in common with Farah than he did with Todd, but he still found it easier to be around Todd. Michael wasn’t exactly sure why he felt that way. Maybe because, no offense to Todd, Farah felt more… accomplished and competent? Or maybe it was because Michael’s nervous energy matched Farah’s in some way, and it bounced back and forth between them. Not that Todd wasn’t nervous, especially since he had that pararibulitis thing going on. But it was different; Todd was generally more unassuming and receptive to let people into his bubble.
In any case, he did like them both. He just didn’t always know what to say to them.
That day he didn’t need to wonder if he should start conversation or not, because Farah clearly had something on his mind that she’d been waiting to say. She’d worked on something on her laptop quietly at first, sipping the coffee Michael had made for them, but closed the lid of the laptop quite soon and cleared her throat.
Michael piped his head up from the computer screen.
“Listen. The last thing I want to do is intrude, but…,” Farah began, giving him a nervous little smile that looked a little apologetic, “I was just wondering how it’s going. With Dirk.”
“Oh,” Michael said, not expecting that and feeling incredibly awkward. “Uhh. Good? Yeah, good.”
To his embarrassment his voice got a little squeaky. God, he hated when it did that.
“Good?” Farah repeated, looking a little lost despite taking the topic up herself.
“Yeah, no it is. Really,” Michael said in a quieter voice, calming himself because he didn’t want Farah to think that his awkwardness meant that he wasn’t serious about Dirk. But he really didn’t know what to say. “I do really like him.”
“Okay, great!” Farah said. She looked like she didn’t want to be having this conversation but didn’t seem done with it either. “I just feel a bit. Protective of Dirk, you know? Like he’s my stupid little brother or something.” She laughed nervously but fondly.
“Yeah, I get it,” Michael nodded.
“So. You’ve been dating for a while now – yes? – and-“
“Well, uh,” Michael interrupted. He felt himself blush a little. “We’re not… technically. We’re not dating… officially? Like he’s not really my boyfriend or anything? Um, yet?”
“What? Oh,” Farah said, startled. She frowned and thought for a while. “You haven’t asked him yet? How come?”
“Well, he hasn’t asked me yet either,” Michael said defensively.
“No, but…,” Farah faltered, gesturing at the air fruitlessly. She seemed to be looking for the right words. She looked sharply at him. “But you’re interested?”
“Uh, yeah,” Michael said. “I think so. Yeah.”
“Because the thing with Dirk is that, even though he seems really forward and you know, spontaneous, with people he’s also really… fragile,” Farah explained. “Like, he makes friends so easily because he’s such a sunny personality, but I think he worries that he can’t keep them. And I think that with dating he’s even more… How should I put it? Reluctant to ask for what he wants in case he’s rejected.”
She shrugged and stared at him, as if to make sure he understood.
“He hasn’t told me anything like that. That’s just the impression I get,” she added, and then looked nervously at the floor. “And I can sort of relate? Maybe not with the sunny personality thing, but you know? And like I said I don’t want to intrude but I just want to look out for him.”
“Oh,” Michael said. He found himself nodding slowly, lost in thought.
He did see what Farah meant. Dirk did seem soft under the surface, and he did also know that Dirk hasn’t dated anyone seriously before. But it hadn’t really occurred to him that he should make the move.
“Oh man, you think I should ask him? Because he might never ask me? Even if he wanted to?” Michael asked.
“Afraid so,” Farah said, nodding sympathetically. “No pressure, though. I’m not here to give you advice. Or tell you what to do because God knows I’m useless with this stuff too, but I thought. Just so you know. Okay?”
The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs startled them. The lazy sleepers were waking up. Michael shared a wordless look with Farah, which seemed to seal their conversation.
Michael could tell that Todd almost regretted having told Tina about his plans for his band. She was even more hyped about the idea of the revival than Todd was. And when she learned about Mona’s involvement, she started pestering Todd about wanting to be their fake bassist. Tina couldn’t play bass at all, but she reminded Todd that if they were to play live they’d need someone to mime playing the bass for them, because the world wasn’t ready to see a self-playing bass.
“C’moooon,” she whined one cloudy afternoon, following Todd around in the agency like a persistent puppy. “I was born to be a bass-player, no matter if it’s fake! My name’s Tina.”
She gestured at her face excitedly. Todd rolled his eyes at her, although her comment made him laugh a little.
“Just because Tina Weymouth’s a genius it doesn’t mean you’re destined to be my fake bassist by virtue of being her namesake,” he retorted.
“It so does,” Tina argued.
“Todd, you should let her,” Dirk said from his place in Michael’s lap. He’d insolently draped himself across Michael’s chair, so that he was sitting on his lap but his feet dangled over the armrests. Honestly, it was like working with a cat.
Michael had felt himself blush when Dirk plopped himself down on his lap in front of the others, but they’d only reacted with amused looks. He didn’t mind when Dirk did stuff like that when they were alone in the agency, but when there were others around he felt a little self-conscious. Not that Dirk had sat himself down to make out with him or anything, he just used him as a chair while he, Todd and Tina waited for Farah to return from running an errand. They were about to go searching for pigeons and were planning on catching one.
“Exactly!” Tina said and nodded gratefully at Dirk.
“Shouldn’t you be in Bergsberg?” Todd shot back.
“Shut up,” Tina said.
“But… shouldn’t you though?” Michael said confusedly. He still didn’t really understand how Tina’s schedules worked. She was still a deputy sheriff, wasn’t she? How was she allowed to be here so often? Didn’t anyone have a normal job these days?
“Don’t you start,” Tina said, narrowing her eyes at him. But as always, her expression was infused with good-naturedness. “Sherlock can hold the fort. I’ll make it up to him. And I can travel back and forth a lot, I don’t mind.”
“I think you’d make a great fake bassist,” Dirk said brightly. “Although… You wouldn’t be able to pluck the strings without messing up whatever Mona is playing, right? So won’t people notice if you’re just hovering your hands over the strings?”
“I guess we could hide her from view a bit,” Todd pondered. “Like, partially behind another band member. Or, or, like absurdly far away at the back of the stage, covered by a fog machine or something.”
Tina and Todd both guffawed with laughter at the idea.
“Does that mean I’m in?” Tina asked, abruptly ceasing to laugh.
“I’ll think about it,” Todd said firmly.
Tina grinned and gave Dirk and Michael a thumbs-up while Todd wasn’t looking.
“Coo,” the pigeon cooed.
“Coo at yourself,” Michael replied, eyeing the bird uncomfortably.
A birdcage had been set on the coffee table, where a previously murderous pigeon was minding its own business.
The gang had figured out a possible way to reverse the effects that had happened to the birds and had tested it on the one they managed to catch. It was Michael’s job to observe the pigeon’s behavior and note down if any changes happened and when.
It made him uneasy. Maybe it was because Farah had just had that talk about Dirk being fragile a while ago, but Michael couldn’t help comparing the pigeon to Dirk. Not the murderous part, but… Doing surveillance on a locked-up bird reminded him of his job in Blackwing, where he would have to write reports on Dirk’s – or, project Icarus’, as he knew him then – progress.
He had seen how fragile Dirk could be, because he’d seen him having to perform stupid tests daily and hoping against hope that his friends would save him. He’d seen how tired and desolate he looked in his cell. And he understood how he might be hesitant to ask for what he wanted in case it didn’t come true, especially since Blackwing had taken him away from his friends just when he’d found people who wanted him around.
His mind kept returning to Blackwing that night, when he was having a quiet movie night with Dirk at his own apartment.
They were comfortably slouched on the sofa, with blankets thrown over them and Dirk resting his head on Michael’s shoulder. A slightly cheesy sci-fi flick was on. Michael had seen it before, so he ended up focusing more on Dirk’s face, which was lit by the pale blue light coming from the TV.
He was completely unguarded, just following the movie and sometimes reacting to it with incredulous huffs of laughter. Although Michael was very fond of Dirk when he was all animated and expressive, he also really treasured those moments when he was calm and still. Something about his eyes made him ache; he looked so soft and gentle, but also focused. And when Dirk really focused on something, he looked like he saw and understood everything.
“What the hell is going on in this movie?” Dirk laughed just then.
Okay, maybe Michael was romanticizing his gaze a little. But he did also startle when Dirk’s eyes flitted to him.
“Uhjh,” he said a little stiffly. “I know, it’s weird. They wanted to go epic, so they shoved a bunch of twists in.”
Sometimes the fact that he had gazed at Dirk through a one-way mirror made him feel incredibly guilty, because he’d been able to witness his vulnerability without his consent. But this Dirk, that was snuggled up to him completely relaxed, was also vulnerable and chose to show itself to Michael. And Dirk had told him several times that he’d completely forgiven him, because he’d been just an idiotic pawn who ended up in the worst imaginable job possible. The fact that Dirk trusted him so openly made some of the guilt go away, but it was still hard to get rid of it completely.
He’d once wondered what it’d be like if they had met under normal circumstances, but then realized that it was meant to happen the way it did if he thought about it in the holistic Dirk-way. Would he be here, now, if instead of Blackwing he’d met Dirk in a grocery store? Would they have even talked?
His thoughts flew to the boyfriend question once again. If he asked Dirk if he wanted to date him officially, it would show his own vulnerability to Dirk, and make him see that he wanted him. But he didn’t want to do it just so he could assuage his guilt.
He did actually want to be Dirk’s boyfriend. But he just needed to wait for the right moment to ask. He had no idea what that moment would be, but he’d do it. He just wished the universe would give him some sort of push, some moment of clarity where he’d feel at ease with himself.
“Marv?” Dirk said softly, startling him from his thoughts and instantly making him roll his eyes at the stupid nickname.
“Yeah?”
“You looked distracted,” Dirk explained.
“Oh, sorry,” he smiled apologetically.
“Are you bored of the movie?” Dirk asked, raising his head a little from Michael’s shoulder, and had the nerve to waggle his eyebrows suggestively as if to ask if he’d rather be doing something else instead.
“Shut up, this is an important part of your sci-fi education,” Michael laughed. “Even if it is a bit of a shit movie.”
“My life is essentially one big sci-fi education, but okay,” Dirk mumbled, and snuggled back into Michael’s side.
Michael shushed him.
It looked like Todd’s plan was coming together. He’d managed to persuade Amanda to play the drums for him. He said she’d missed playing drums and hanging out with Todd, Dirk and Farah, and understood why he wouldn’t want her to bring the rowdy vampires: Todd didn’t want them around him yet, when he was still figuring out how to handle his pararibulitis. Frankly, Michael was just relieved that they wouldn’t come and smash up their agency.
“Mexican… Re-Funeral?” Tina – who had been begrudgingly allowed into the band – suggested. Her mouth was full of doughnut.
“Ugh, no,” Todd waved his hand. “I thought about Mexican Wake, but it’s too similar, it’s like an obvious rebrand.”
They were trying to come up with a new name for the band, to reflect their new direction; Todd had decided they should get someone to play the keyboards as well for the post-punk vibe, and since Todd was the only original member of the band left, he felt they should change the name a bit.
“Mexican Uprising, then?” Tina said, but then immediately laughed, almost choking on the doughnut. “Wait, that sounds like a revolution, I was going for a zombie uprising kind of idea.”
“Do you need to keep the ‘Mexican’ bit?” Michael asked, while idly decorating his bullet journal. “I mean, you’re not even Mexican. It’s kinda weird. Potentially offensive, too.”
“Yeah, I know, I guess it’s a bit… you know,” Todd sighed, “but I want people to be able to recognize the band somehow.”
“Todd…,” Tina said kindly, although she looked amused, “you didn’t have that many fans. Sure, you had a loyal following, like I said, but…”
“Not that big, yeah, yeah,” Todd grimaced. “But I can’t think of anything.”
“Seattlean Funeral. The Awakening,” Tina quipped.
“You could slip ‘holistic’ in somewhere,” Michael suggested. “Considering one of your members is a holistic actress. Like ‘Holistic Wake’ or something.”
“Oh, that could be cool,” Todd nodded enthusiastically. He kept nodding, now thoughtful. “Yeah, that could be cool.”
The oncoming fall was already starting to make the days shorter and colder. The air no longer felt warmly languid and slightly dusty, but somehow sharper to the senses, as if the cool wind brought with it a feeling of urgency or anticipation. Everything was more in focus, the smell of the wet pavement more significant.
At least that’s what it felt like to Michael. He’d always found something mysterious about fall. Although, maybe a part of his appreciation for it also stemmed from the fact that it wouldn’t be so uncomfortably hot to wear black clothes now.
He and Dirk had been tasked with spreading flyers across the city, declaring ‘HOLISTIC WAKE NEEDS A KEYBOARDIST’ with details below it. They made their own little outings out of them, going out into the dusk when the workday was over and posting them around busy areas while stopping by coffee shops to have hot chocolates.
There hadn’t been any promising phone calls yet, so this time Todd had told them to try attaching flyers near the music store that he’d visited a little while ago.
They stapled a couple of them to some poles outside the store and went inside too to give some to the employees. Dirk, his usual chatty self, started talking to the cashier about the band, praising how cool they are in an attempt to spread interest in them. Michael thought it was adorable that he’d do that for his best friend, but the people in the shop looked a little disgruntled.
“Some people have no taste,” Dirk scoffed, when back outside the store.
Michael smiled. As far as he was aware, Mexican Funeral wasn’t exactly within Dirk’s music taste either. Dirk seemed to like groovier stuff and earworms that were kind of awful sometimes. But then again, he was also very receptive to what his friends liked and could get excited about almost anything. And Michael, too, had to admit that he was looking forward to the revival concert. He’d witnessed Todd talking about it so often that he felt himself invested in it too. And he actually really liked post-punk.
“Are we going somewhere else next?” Michael asked, and then looked in his black leather jacket’s pockets. “Wait, do we even have any flyers left? I don’t.”
Dirk dug through his pockets as well. “Oh, I’ve got only one. I didn’t realize we brought so few.”
“Huh. Well, um. Do you want to do something else then?” Michael asked.
It was stupid, but for some reason he still felt a bit nervous when he asked Dirk to spend time with him outside of work hours, even though they’d done a lot of that. He felt that maybe it was because they weren’t officially dating yet, and so going on what were essentially dates felt a tiny bit wrong because they were behaving like a couple without acknowledging it out loud.
But his worries always dissipated when Dirk reacted with such enthusiasm.
“Sure!” Dirk grinned. “What d’you want to do?”
Michael didn’t have time to think of anything, because they were interrupted with a loud “Hey” behind them.
They turned around and saw a man right next to one of the telegraph poles they’d stapled a flyer to. He looked vaguely familiar, although at the same time Michael was very aware that he’d never met him. He had one of those faces, ones that look very average and kind of forgettable; his skin was neither light nor dark, his hair was a sort of mousy brown. He was looking right at them while pointing at the flyer on the post.
“I want to be in your band,” he said solemnly.
“Oh!” Dirk exclaimed cheerfully. “Great! It’s not ours, it’s our friends’, but great! You can play, yes?”
The man lowered his hands and stared at them, flexing his fingers slowly like he’d never really seen them before. Michael was about to whisper to Dirk that maybe they should leave because something about the man’s behavior made him look like he was on several drugs, but then the man seemed to remember where he was and nodded.
“Yes. I’m very good. My name is… Evanston,” he said.
“O-okay… cool!” Dirk said, still smiling but Michael could tell that he thought he was a bit weird too. “Will you give us your phone number?”
“Phone… I don’t have that,” Evanston said.
“P-pigeon post?” Dirk suggested with a laugh.
What kind of a freak didn’t have a phone? Michael thought.
“I will get a phone,” the man promised.
Although his behavior was unusual to say the least, he didn’t seem unkind or dangerous. His gaze and body language had something honest in it, but still, he was just weird as hell and Michael wasn’t sure if they should be talking to him.
But before he could say anything, Dirk handed him his last flyer, telling him to call the number on it when he could.
Michael shot Dirk a look, unwilling to say anything in the man’s presence. Dirk shrugged back at him with a sheepish look on his face, as if to say ‘oh, well, it can’t hurt, can it?’
Oddly enough – or maybe Michael should get used to nothing really being odd anymore – Evanston fit the band well enough. He didn’t see them rehearse, but heard Todd saying he’s kind of quiet and solemn but really knows how to work with sound and is very focused when he plays, even knows how to tinker with the synthesizer. According to Todd, his rather boring appearance didn’t mean he was tame. Instead, he really wanted them to play loud, which suited Todd. He even thought that Evanston was ‘pretty cool’ and ‘old-school’ when they told him about the phone thing. Michael was pretty sure that he was just feeling desperate and impatient enough to get the band thing rolling that he’d just about accept anyone who knew how to play.
Amanda Brotzman had also arrived. There was a small, local concert venue that had allowed them to use the premises but only on a specific day in September as they were otherwise booked, and that gave the band only two weeks to rehearse and put everything together. So, Amanda had made the journey from wherever she was to quickly learn the songs.
Michael had both looked forward to and feared meeting her. From what he’d heard, she sounded like one of the most interesting people on Earth, and he respected her efforts to find and help holistic people to protect them from Blackwing. But she also seemed completely unafraid to say what she thought, and he worried she wouldn’t like him.
But their first meeting was rather brief: there was a flurry of excitement at her arrival with the whole gang crowding in the agency, Amanda meeting Mona for the first time as well and all the catching ups between everyone as they hadn’t seen her in a long while. Dirk did make sure to introduce him to her warmly as their assistant, and Amanda shot a knowing look at them with a smile, probably having heard of the thing they two had. Luckily, she didn’t mention anything about it. He didn’t want to explain their relationship or anything, when he hadn’t asked Dirk yet. She did seem nice, though, and she briefly expressed some interest too in having a chat with Michael about Blackwing when they weren’t busy, since he might offer at least some morsels of intel into how they worked to help her with her project.
After that, he mainly saw her and the other members of the band in passing. They were often hurrying to and fro, sometimes practising in the flat upstairs and sometimes at the venue, when the owners let them use the space. The agency functioned as a sort of lobby sometimes, where people would hang out while they waited for someone and then they’d be off again. On such occasions Michael would often witness snippets of conversation, and being a pretty quiet and observant guy, he’d listen even if he didn’t mean to. The increased bustle around the place and the small moments had him pondering all sorts of things as he worked.
One day, he’d seen Amanda pacing back and forth around the agency with Todd. Todd had looked nervous, while Amanda looked more composed, but still adrenaline filled.
“I think it’s good we only have two weeks to prepare,” she’d said. “It’ll feel less contrived and more punk and it’s over sooner, so it won’t be so scary.”
“No, I agree,” Todd replied. “Like, if it works it works, right? But, I don’t know, I- since there’s so little time it’s a bit overwhelming because if there’s other stuff to worry about it’ll feel worse?”
Michael had no idea what he was talking about, but Amanda seemed to understand right away.
“You’re worried you’ll get a pararibulitis attack onstage?” she asked with sympathy.
“Well, yeah,” Todd admitted.
“It’s going to be fine,” Amanda promised. “I’ll be right there and, well, I’ve been practicing my magic, and I promise you I’ll be able to help before it gets too bad. I know you think it’s freaky and want to take care of it yourself, but if-“
And they’d headed out as Evanston and Tina arrived, but Michael had heard Todd thank her.
Watching the two of them, Michael had wondered what it would be like to have a witch for a sister. Or a sister at all, for that matter. Being an only child of divorced parents, he’d never really had a big sense of family. It had been a bit of a bummer when he’d been a child, but he hadn’t really thought about it much in his adulthood. But now, having found a job where he feels like he fits in, and has gotten to know these strange but cool people who he’s starting to consider his friends, the idea of family pops into his head a bit more often.
One day, all of Michael’s button-ups had been in the wash, so he’d worn a T-shirt to work that he’d bought once – half as a joke but not really – that had the famous ‘I WANT TO BELIEVE’ X-Files picture on it, except it said ‘I WANT TO LEAVE’ instead. Everyone, including Evanston, had complimented his shirt with friendly laughs and even though it was such a small thing, it had made him feel warm and accepted. Maybe it’s fine that he doesn’t have a sister or whatever. Maybe he can feel like a part of something, here.
As the band only had such little time to rehearse, Michael, Dirk and Farah took care of their pigeon case on their own. Not that there was that much to do anymore: their captured pigeon had recovered from all murderous intentions, and they’d figured out a way to spread the antidote to other pigeons by making their healed pigeon carry it to its flock. They just had no clue who was behind the mysterious pigeon occurrence. They’d assumed it was planned, but they were beginning to wonder if it was some kind of accident. Whatever it was, the pigeons were unnatural, not just rabid.
They’d even asked their retired scientist friend, Maggie, about it, but she hadn’t been able to help them unless you counted providing them with cake as helping. Which they kind of did.
When the night of the concert finally came, fall had truly made itself known. In the busiest part of the city center, one hardly noticed the darkening nights with all the skyscrapers and stores and the Ferris wheel being constant sources of light. But the concert venue lay in the very outskirts of the city: close enough to still attract ardent music lovers, but also far enough for one to be enveloped in the calm darkness. It would have been almost pitch-dark, if not for the streetlights which cast a pale, yellow glow. Up above, the stars were visible. And in the distance, the pale Mount Rainier looked even more impressive than usual, emerging from the gloom as it did.
It had been too long since he had done something fun during his favourite season, Michael mused as he, Dirk and Farah made their way towards the venue. A major chunk of his time in the past couple of years had been taken up by – and wasted by – his military training and all the CIA stuff and stupid Blackwing, so he hadn’t really remembered to enjoy what had been happening around him.
Now, he breathed the crisp air in deep and immersed himself in the moment, looking all around him as they walked. He followed the flightpath of a stray, fallen leaf and listened to the wind howling in a pleasing way. He felt adventurous.
Dirk started skipping once the venue came into view, making Michael and Farah laugh and quicken their pace to keep up with him. They were all eager to see the band perform, feeling nervous and excited on their behalf.
They weren’t the first to arrive. The venue was well-loved by locals, and many turned up even when the bands playing there weren’t famous. But as they went in, Michael could see some people wearing Mexican Funeral T-shirts, which must be the ‘loyal following’ Tina spoke of. They’d already taken up the first few front rows.
“Well,” Farah said, as they joined the crowd, “this is my second concert ever. I hope we don’t get a lust spell thrown at us again.”
“What?” Michael asked, confused.
“Nothing,” Dirk supplied quickly. “Let’s not think about that.”
Michael frowned. That had never come up in Dirk’s stories about their past cases. He was definitely going to ask Dirk about that later.
A good cluster of people had arrived behind them in the crowd by the time the lights went off. The stage lights flickered on, and the band walked on stage, to loud cheers from the fans and especially from Michael, Dirk and Farah. Todd greeted the crowd, explaining briefly how the band had changed, and then they kicked off with a loud, energetic song. Michael recognized it as an old Mexican Funeral song, apparently one of the crowd favorites. He hadn’t really heard any of their songs in full but had come to know snippets of them when Todd had been playing them on guitar and had heard him talking about their past gigs.
After that Todd introduced the next song as one of their new ones. Michael found himself really enjoying it. He could see that Todd and Amanda played really well together, feeding off each other and packing impressive punch. And he smiled to see Tina, who looked like she was really enjoying herself.
They had actually acquired a fog machine to partly hide her, but it didn’t really work: she was really noticeable. She was wearing a blue sequin jacket with what appeared to be just a black bra underneath, and she – like Amanda – had applied eyeliner strongly, except she had also added glitter on her face. And she was bouncing enthusiastically on stage. If Michael was in her place, he might have felt a bit silly and insecure, pretending to be a bassist and knowing it wasn’t him playing. But Tina just seemed to be taking all the joy out of it she could and didn’t mind that she didn’t actually know how to play. It was her glam moment, and her joy was contagious. However, it did seem like she had learned how to mime playing the bass quite well, so it didn’t even matter whether the fog machine hid her or not.
He wondered how Mona was feeling. She’d been in her bass form most of the time these past few weeks; they’d thought it would be best not to show Evanston that their bass was more than just an instrument and therefore spook him away, not when they’d just found him on such short notice. But knowing her, Mona probably didn’t mind. She was always so dedicated to her roles.
Evanston was amazing. It was no wonder that Todd had wanted to keep him despite his weird behavior. He had built some sort of contraption attached to his keyboard, maybe an amp or a modifier, Michael didn’t know. But it felt like when he pressed down on the keys, they emitted more than sound: a thrum, reverberating through the room. And the way he played was so precise, almost mathematic. It reminded Michael of Kraftwerk, a bit. It added an almost hypnotizing, otherworldly feeling to the songs.
When he looked around him, he could see that the crowd had grown even more. It had been forever since he’d last been to a concert, and he’d forgotten how good it felt. Normally, he didn’t like big crowds, but during concerts he felt part of a greater thing, a mass that moved together. He was one of those people who didn’t really dance when alone, because even when there were no witnesses, he felt stupid. But here, in the dark, caught up in the music, he was able to bop his head along and sway with everyone. At some point, Dirk started jumping next to him and nudged him smilingly, wordlessly persuading him to join him. He started jumping too, catching Dirk’s silliness on. They made Farah join them too, and although she rolled her eyes at first, she was soon laughing loudly too as she bounced.
The setlist wasn’t that long since their repertoire was quite small, and before long the concert was over. They were spilling outside along the crowd, rejoicing in the cold air after all the gathered heat inside.
“I can’t believe I’m dating a rock star,” Farah shouted at Tina, running to her as they met with the band outside at the back of the venue.
Tina rolled her eyes but looked smug anyway. Half of her makeup had sweated off, and she looked ecstatic. There was a colourful butterfly perched on top of her head, which was probably Mona.
“That makes you a groupie, doesn’t it? Wow. Farah Black, a groupie. Who would’ve known?” Tina said.
Farah punched her arm lightly in retaliation, but then embraced her proudly.
Excited chatter filled the parking lot, voices overlapping over each other. Congratulations were mixed in with Todd and Amanda’s overview of the night, picking apart what they had messed up and what had gone well.
“You really were good,” Michael joined in the praises, genuinely impressed.
The only one who had remained silent was Evanston, who just gazed at them placidly, but then he broke in quietly but with such a calm tone that it got everyone’s attention:
“I must go now. This has been great. Thank you, all.”
“What, dude?” Todd said, shaking his head. “I thought we might all go for drinks or something to celebrate? You’re already going home?”
“Yes, I cannot delay. My people are coming for me,” he said.
Which was a weirdly dramatic way to say that his friends were coming to pick him up, Michael thought.
“Oh. Well. See you? We should meet up again soon, to discuss what we’re going to do next and-, “ Todd was saying, but was interrupted by Evanston.
“No, I am leaving you all for good,” he said. He was looking up at the dark sky.
Everyone just stared at him. They’d gotten somewhat used to his oddness, but this was truly mad. He’d seemed so invested in the band; it didn’t make sense. And something about his behaviour and words now held Michael in a breathless, transfixed anticipation. He wasn’t quite sure what was happening, but for some reason he felt himself sweating.
“I want to apologize for all the harm,” Evanston continued sincerely. “For leaving your band, for lying to you… and when my ship crash-landed here, I had been on a scientific mission, and some of the gas I was carrying with me escaped…-“
“Your SHIP?!” Michael squeaked, shaking now.
“…It is unharmful to humans, but probably affected your fauna…,” Evanston went on, explaining.
“The… the pigeons,” Michael heard Dirk say breathlessly, some distance away from him.
“My species communicates mostly sonically, and I was lucky to land next to a place that sold instruments… And then I saw your advertisement… it was the perfect opportunity, to send sound signals up to my people so they could locate me, loud enough for them to hear because of the amplifiers,” Evanston said, again looking up. He perked up, seeming to see something in the sky.
All of them looked up wordlessly at the same time as well, rendered dumb by the events, powerless to do nothing else but bear witness. Michael could see something gliding in the darkness, some sort of shape he couldn’t make out. It looked obsidian, almost indistinguishable from the sky. The eerie movement told of its presence, and it had flickering lights in it, although those could be mistaken for stars if one wasn’t expecting to be looking for a freaking spaceship in the sky.
A shimmering pillar of light descended from it, like a shower of glitter. It found Evanston.
“Before I go, I will show you my true form. It is only fair, for letting me be with you. This body is merely a disguise, an approximation of your species,” he said.
Then his form started warping, bubbling, contorting; he seemed to peel from within and a blinding light enveloped him for a moment as he shifted. Then, he became something else, an incomprehensible sight. Some of his body seemed to consist of a kind of metal part, some sort of skeleton or frame, and the rest of his form shifted around it, becoming and unbecoming, varying in colours and textures. It was like a Lovecraftian monster, except beautiful. Michael’s eyes watered as he looked and tried to process what he was seeing.
“My name isn’t Evanston, either,” the alien said, although Michael couldn’t work out where the voice was coming from exactly since he wasn’t sure which part was the mouth, “I named myself after a street sign I saw. My real name is-“
And then he said something Michael couldn’t understand, a cacophony of sounds that his puny human mind couldn’t take.
“Oh my God!!” Michael just screamed at him.
“I leave you now,” the alien said, and the beam of light enveloping him seemed to pull him towards the ship, he started floating, and… Michael wasn’t sure, but something about the way he wobbled made it look like he was waving at them.
“OH MY GOD!” Michael repeated as he watched him go, fully trembling.
He was half aware of Tina screeching and Amanda laughing, but he couldn’t really pay attention to his surroundings or anything that didn’t have anything to do with the real alien he was looking at, so he just watched until the alien was too far away in the air to be seen anymore, until the glittering light disappeared and the ship started moving again.
Then his eyes found Dirk’s and he let out a scream, just like Tina had.
“ALIENS,” Dirk yelled at him with wild excitement in his eyes.
“ALIENS!” Michael replied, feeling his chest burst with joy and disbelief, and he was still shaking and feeling almost ill. “WHAT THE FUCK?”
The others were jumping up and whooping at the sky. None of them had realized to film any of it, but it was better that way. They’d witnessed an amazing thing together, and it made it all the more special that it had been a fleeting moment, that the alien had allowed just them to see it. Even Todd, who could have been expected to be upset at the loss of his valuable band member, was laughing with his eyes wide.
Michael closed his eyes momentarily to try to compose himself, feeling his smile blooming on his face without control. He smelled the familiar cold air, felt the sharp wind – which had become stronger due to the movement of the spaceship taking off – circling them, making him shiver. His heart was thumping, and he felt content. Strangely enough, a sense of clarity descended on him from all this bizarreness.
“Hey, Dirk?” he said, opening his eyes. His voice was shaky, almost comically wobbly, but he felt completely sure of himself.
“Yeah?” Dirk asked, stepping towards him.
“Do you want to be my boyfriend?” Michael asked.
Dirk froze for a second, completely surprised. But then he broke into a huge grin, bright enough to rival the stars in that autumnal night sky.
And suddenly he had his arms full of Dirk.