The Devil's Girl - Part III

Stopping just out of view of anyone in the small conference room, Buffy quickly checked her face and hair in her compact for any signs of her sprint up the stairwell. Satisfied that no one would be able to tell that she'd been running more than fashionably late until that last burst of slayer speed, Buffy stepped into the room, closing the door behind her.

Slipping into the remaining seat, she looked around at the other seated occupants. Sam Finn, as expected, was dressed in the impressively non-descript uniform her group used for diplomatic meetings. She hadn't been expecting anyone else from Riley's team to show up, but Sam's solitary presence was a very clear indication that they were taking a hands-off approach. If they'd expected to be part of the investigation, Graham or Riley would have been with her.

"Sam," she said, nodding in her direction. Sam winked back at her.

The others wouldn't have been hard to figure out, even if Andy's profiles of them hadn't included photos. The Commissioner and his assistant sat at one end of the table, the Chief of Detectives and hers at the other.

"Commissioner, Chief Cagney, I didn't believe you've met Ms. Summers before," Sam said, introducing her.

"Commissioner, Chief Cagney," Buffy said, briefly standing to shake their hands.

"Ms. Summers, Agent Finn has assured us that your organization can take care of this problem without attracting attention from the press," the Commissioner stated.

"We'll do our best," Buffy told him. "Any press exposure will not come from us."

"Good, good. We'll leave you to your discussion," he said, standing up. "Chief Cagney and her office should be able to provide you with any help you need." Nodding at the others, he stepped from the room followed by his assistant.

Raising an eyebrow, Buffy looked at the Chief.

"As long as we let him have the credit for the political cases, he leaves us alone to do our jobs," the Chief said.

"Ah," Buffy murmured. "So, how are we going to do this?" she asked. "I had to promise our new lawyer that I wouldn't sign anything without her approval. Unfortunately, she won't arrive until this afternoon, but we can at least work out the details."

"You have complete authority over the investigation," Sam told her. "We'll provide any assistance you request," she added, "but otherwise it's all yours." She slid a large envelope across the table. "Have your lawyer review this. I'll need a signed copy to take back with me to Washington tomorrow."

"So, the usual apocalypse disclaimer," Buffy said. "How much freedom do we really have here?"

"I would have preferred to have my detectives running this investigation," the Chief said, clearly unhappy. "But I was over-ruled. You have powerful friends. This investigation is now classified and only one of my detectives was given clearance."

"Detective Polniaczek?" she asked. "We met yesterday," Buffy added in response to the Chief's frown.

"She's one of Chief Cagney's best detective," Sam said.

At the Chief's terse nod, Buffy added, "Good choice. Does she know yet that we're running this?"

"No," the Chief said. "I have a meeting with her in an hour. As long as you are operating in my city, I expect her to be a part of it."

"Are you lending her to us or is she just observing?"

"She'll report back to me on your progress but otherwise she'll take her orders from you," the Chief said. "I want her back, in one piece, when you're done."

"We'll try not to break her, but we can't make any promises," Buffy said.

"A little experience in your world won't hurt her," Chief Cagney said. "Just don't forget that she doesn't have your unique abilities."

Frowning at the unexpected knowledge she was displaying, Buffy looked at Sam, who shook her head.

"My world?"

"I would be a pretty poor Chief of Detectives if I wasn't aware of the non-human elements in my city," she said. "I also expect you to follow her advice in this matter, unless the Council has suddenly started hiring people with her expertise?"

"You have experience with the old Council," Buffy stated.

[---]

"What else?" Buffy asked.

"The FBI turned over their complete case files to us." She slide a slim briefcase across the table to Buffy. "Our analysts went over everything with a fine toothed comb and believe there is a clear connection between Sachs and the earlier attacks but couldn't find anything definitive."

"I'm sure the FBI wasn't happy with that," Buffy said. "How'd you manage to pry it loose?"

"It wasn't too hard," Sam said with a shrug. "They've hit a dead end using their usual methods and would rather it blew up in someone else's face."

[---]

[Jo finds out she's working for Buffy. This does not go over well.]

[Enter the lawyer. Surprise!]

["Meeting" with MP at 'Runway']

"There's a detective here to see you," her newest assistant said, standing nervously in her door.  Miranda raised an eyebrow. That was all it took. 

"Right, I'll tell them you're busy," she said, scurrying away.

Returning to the photos from the previous day's shoot in Central Park, Miranda dismissed the interruption from her mind, ignoring the faint buzz of voices in the outer office.

"They insist on seeing you," the insufferable girl told her, returning a minute later.

"Coffee," Miranda ordered, waving her away. 

"Yes, Miranda," she said, disappearing in a blur of movement.

"Ms. Priestly?" her Friday, her First Assistant, said in the overly respectable tone she used when she expected to be fired. She wasn't the best assistant Miranda had ever had, but she'd not only earned her place in the pantheon of legendary assistants but her own nickname bestowed by Nigel before he left for greener pastures, like only one before her.

Picking up her glasses from her desk, Miranda slid them onto her face , pausing for that all important second before firmly putting them in place to give the invaders the full force of her displeasure at their presence. As she got older, Miranda found  her tolerance for fools and their nonsense to reach an all time low by mid afternoon.

"Yes?" she asked, looking at her pale assistant for enlightenment, with an inflection that could send rats fleeing from a perfectly seaworthy craft.

"Ms. Summers and Detective Polniaczek insisted that they see you now," Friday said.

Miranda focused on the women visible in her outer office, behind Friday.

"They can make an appointment like anyone else," she said dismissively. 

"Sorry Miranda, they won't leave," Friday said. "They want to talk about an Andy Sachs." She gave Miranda a questioning look.

"Of course," Miranda muttered to herself, grimacing at a name that hadn't been uttered in her office in over half a decade. "Who else."

"Show them in," she said.

Entering first, the detective projected an air of authority, without appearing threatening, Miranda noticed, hiding her mild surprise. She obviously hadn't gone to the same interview school as the FBI agents who had barged into her office several weeks ago ready to accuse her of some kind of vendetta against incompetent former assistants she'd fired.

The other woman, entering after a brief discussion with a much taller woman who took up a position just outside her door, wouldn't have looked out of place in 'Runway' if she wasn't so much shorter than average. Watching her stop next to the detective, her movements were oddly erotic as she seemed to not so much walk as flow into place. There was something about her that set off alarms in Miranda's mind.

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