He stays with his family for ten more days. During that time, he doesn't really talk to Carey; if Carey's making plans, PK's not part of them. And of course, he's sure Carey is making plans. But then, there's nothing he can reasonably do about it.

And, if PK's being honest with himself, he really needs this break.

At the end of the ten days, he Apparates back to Montreal, going straight for Carey's apartment. Caro was very thorough; Carey's stuff looks like it's been cleaned out. But sure enough, PK can still unlock it, and when he says, "Um, we're back," and taps his wand against the wall, the rooms fade back into their old existence.

It's kind of a terrifyingly impressive piece of magic. Or at least, PK thinks, it would be terrifying if he didn't know Caro as well as he does.

He settles in and waits for Carey. Sure enough, Carey comes in about an hour later.

He stops dead when he sees PK. "Hey."

"My place is probably cleared out," PK says. "We told Caro to just do your place, remember?"

Carey winces. "Right."

"My stuff was at my parents'," PK says. He figures that probably makes it better. "Also, you should tell me what you're planning."

A minute ago, Carey looked kind of freaked out. But now his face goes all stormy, and he clams up, saying, "No."

"Do your parents think it's a good idea?"

"Do you think I've told them?" Carey snaps.

"I think you thought about it," PK says. "But no, you probably kept it to yourself. No one's going to accuse you of being the brightest."

"Fuck off," Carey says.

"Whoa," PK says. "Carey -"

"No. I don't need your input on this." Carey smacks his wand on his bag so hard it leaps into the air. "I'll be in my room," he says, and brushes past PK.

Well, that could've gone better. Maybe the joking insult was a bit much.

PK sits on the couch for awhile, all but twiddling his thumbs. Then he has a realization, kind of like Newton, on a much smaller scale:

He's been going about this all wrong.

By now, Martin will be back in the city. He can go back into the office and give his explanation - he's way better at this kind of lying than Carey, anyway, since it involves being himself without the blanket of undercover to smooth over the rough edges. But the important thing about going back into the office is his boards are there, and his Muggle markers. He can take those back to Carey's, and then he can solve this.

Or, well. He tamps down on his optimism a bit. He can at least start to solve it.

Mind made up, he gets up and changes into his robes. He picks some of his day-to-day ones, the better to look like he just got back from a vacation. It's barely eleven, so he can believably be coming back, taking it easy after a leisurely vacation. PK charms a few pictures in his wallet, making them look like beaches, then Apparates to headquarters.

It all looks the same. PK doesn't know what he was expecting, really, but not this: it's pristine and seems to be running as well as Montreal ever runs. Not as well as it could, but then, prime efficiency isn't Martin's goal, apparently.

He's waylaid by Plekanec as he gets to his desk. "We heard you were kidnapped," Plekanec says. "Only got word from your mother yesterday."

So Mom's played her role. Thank Victoria. "Oh," PK says, blinking owlishly. "I heard that. Some revenge for our undercover job, eh? The simulacrums, she showed me pictures." He swallows. "Disturbing."

That part, at least, is true.

"I'm glad you're back," Plekanec says, and leaves.

He doesn't sound glad, but PK'll take what he can get. He makes a big show of shuffling papers, then goes into Martin's office.

Martin doesn't so much as twitch when he looks at PK. If PK weren't angry with him, if he felt less helpless or scared, he'd probably admire it just a little.

But PK's all of those things, so instead he just stands still and waits for Martin to say something.

"It's good to see you," Martin says finally.

It sounds like a lie, but PK replies, "It's good to be back."

"An unfortunate mishap, with your vacation."

PK nods. "I don't know how the paperwork got lost. And the kidnappings...I guess that's a consequence of going undercover against dangerous Dark wizards." He widens his eyes, aiming for 'too dumb to be anything but innocent'.

Martin blinks a few times, then nods, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly. Apparently PK's aim was correct. "It's a very unfortunate sequence of events," Martin says. "Will you be in the office today?"

"I was hoping to go home," PK says. "I have a few things I need to grab, but I'll work on paperwork from there. I should finish it up from our last job, anyway, before we get another assignment."

"Of course," Martin says. "Be in the office tomorrow, nine AM sharp."

"Absolutely," PK says. Before Martin can say anything else, PK makes his escape.

He takes his files on the case home, along with some ostentatiously arranged paperwork, a corkboard, and a dry erase board. People give him amused looks as he floats them out into the Apparation lobby, but they don't say anything. They've gotten used to his Muggle tools.

And now, PK thinks, he's going to use those Muggle tools to fix this mess. For good.

Carey's sitting in the kitchen when PK gets back. He looks on in bewilderment when PK plops the papers down on the table and levitates the boards against the wall. "Is there a reason for this?"

"Problem-solving," PK says. He's never deliberately close-mouthed; he thinks of that as being more Carey's job. But right now, he doesn't really want to explain himself. He has to work around Carey, not with him, and that means putting up boundaries between them.

Carey very obviously picks up on some of that. He rolls his eyes and says, "Okay," and leaves the kitchen, tossing his magazine hard into the trash as he goes.

PK's not going to worry. He can't afford to worry right now. He pulls his markers out and starts flipping through the files.

Mortimer, he thinks, is the obvious starting point.

PK takes his whiteboard down as soon as he's drawn his conclusion. He knows there are other ways, ways that are probably more cautious and that don't involve deals with a Dark wizard. But he's pretty sure that if he attempts to follow any of them, Carey will die. As it is, he's already going to lose Carey; but at the very least, he should make sure Carey stays alive and is just permanently pissed at him.

If he talked to his mother, she'd tell him to go to the head of the Royal Canadian Aurors. But PK doubts that will do any good. Even if they listen to them long enough to go to the woods and find Martin's plans, the odds are that Martin has moved the site. And if he tries to dig up evidence again, Carey will already have acted. That's leaving aside the fact that the Aurors might not be willing to do anything. They haven't in the past, sometimes, when it comes to Quebec.

No; PK's going to do this himself. Or, almost. First he's going to talk to Hal.

Hal looks surprised when PK shows up on his doorstep, then kind of angry. "Get inside," he says, yanking PK in. "You know you're a walking target, right?"

PK looks around. "Is it safe?"

"My house is a fortress of defensive magic kids like you can barely comprehend," Hal says. "Now. Into the living room. Lucky for you, my wife has taken our lovely children to a movie."

"Lucky me," PK says weakly. He sits down in the chair Hal motions to.

"So," Hal says. "You're not dead. Or being tortured."

"Not yet."

"I'm delighted to hear that."

Hal's face betrays nothing, but PK kind of suspects he might've been upset. There's no real way to bring that up, though, so PK just says, "Thanks."

Hal nods. "Now, please tell me you have a plan. This kind of subterfuge is not Carey's strength."

"Carey has a lot of strengths," PK says. Then he realizes he sounds like an idiot and clicks his mouth shut.

Hal snorts. "Carey trusts in the authority of the Aurors. He has to, to go deep undercover like that. Now that that trust has been betrayed, my guess is he has plans to do something deeply stupid."

That's really not at all inaccurate, PK thinks. So he says, "Yeah. I mean - yeah."

"Which brings us back to your plan." Hal leans back and raises his eyebrows. "Tell me about it. Don't leave anything out."

Like PK would dare, with Hal. He launches into an explanation. It's harder than he thought; there's so much he never got a chance to tell Hal. But at the end of it, Hal nods and says, "It's not completely boneheaded."

"You don't think the part about partnering with Mortimer is a death sentence?"

"If it doesn't work, it is," Hal says. "But if it works - no. You'll be fine."

He says it like he's absolutely sure. PK wishes he had that luxury. "Will you smack me if I admit how scared I am?"

Hal shakes his head. "I know you're scared. But what good will it do to talk about it?"

That's pretty true, so PK says, "I guess I should go, then."

"Nah," Hal says. "You can't go out and find Mortimer for at least a few hours. Stay, have a butterbeer. Or a firewhiskey. You'll need it."

PK is definitely not the type of guy to turn down a drink in times of trouble. He says, "Hit me."

An hour later, he leaves Hal's, with one drink warming his stomach and a much better idea of what he's actually going to do tonight. He's somewhat worried that going back to Carey's will mean he spills the beans about the plan, so instead he goes to Caro's and explains himself, again. Only this time, it's a skeptical Melissa and a coolly interested Caro listening.

"Has it occurred to you that going off on your own is exactly what Carey did, and the reason your cover was blown?" Melissa says when he finishes.

"I can't stop him from doing something alone," PK says. "All I can do is try to head him off."

"I have met such stubborn people," Caro says. "But surely you know he'll be furious with you."

"Sure," PK says. "But he'll also be alive. So."

"The things we do for love," Melissa says sarcastically. But her eyes flick over to Caro, which is interesting. Or would be interesting, if PK wasn't pretty busy worrying about his own stuff.

"Something like that," PK says.

"Well, lucky for you, I know how to find Mortimer," Melissa says. "Give me five minutes."

"You're sure? I didn't want to ask you. The trauma -"

"I'm sure," Melissa says in clipped tones, which is how PK ends up peering into a skull-shaped cup, looking at the watery reflection of Mortimer in his stronghold.

"Oh," PK says. "Well, I guess if we snuck into it once before, I can do it again."

"Did you bring your cloak?" Melissa says, waving her wand. The cup goes dark.

"No," PK says. "So I won't be invisible. But I cast a mean look-away spell."

"That won't be enough," Caro says.

Implication is heavy in her tone. PK isn't really surprised; he just says, "You mean I should give myself up."

Caro nods. "He probably won't kill you. Out of curiosity, if nothing else."

"Comforting," PK says.

"It was meant to be," Caro says. Her smile is kind of mean. "Now go."

So PK goes. He Apparates to the suburbs, then slowly makes his way to Mortimer's mansion.

Unfortunately, that gives him plenty of time to think. About losing Carey, about what that'll mean to him. He and Carey - they don't have a normal relationship, really. It's not like sleeping together was professional, and even for two people who were sleeping together, they were kind of weird. There's no way PK can quantify what they're doing that points to it being a normal relationship, and that's frustrating.

It also makes PK worry about what'll happen, all the way up to the point when he's standing at the edge of Mortimer's property. Then he has other stuff to worry about.

He doesn't bother trying to disguise his approach, since he figures that will probably just get him killed faster. Instead, he holds up his hands as he gets closer to the mansion.

A flunky finds him quickly. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't kill you," he says, holding his wand out.

"Wait," PK says in English. Then he adds, in French, "I need to talk with Mortimer. I have a deal for him. He'll want to consider it."

The guy's eyes narrow, but he says, "Fine. Come with me."

PK follows him into the mansion, and down the same long hallway he and Carey had gone down. Mortimer is sitting in his chair, but this time, Martin's head isn't in the fireplace.

"Bring him here," Mortimer says.

The flunky escorts PK over to stand in front of Mortimer. PK stands up a little straighter. He knows he probably looks like some kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, but if he's going to die, he wants to at least present like he cares.

"Well," Mortimer says. "I will admit, this is a surprise."

"Not too much of one, I hope," PK says.

Mortimer smiles narrowly. "I did see you coming, yes. No need to worry on my account."

"Oh, I didn't think so," PK says. "But why don't you get your guy over there to take his wand off me? I came to talk. You can even take my wand - it's in my back pocket."

Mortimer glances over at the flunky and nods. The flunky gingerly removes PK's wand and tosses it to Mortimer, who sets it on the table nearest him.

"See?" PK makes a show of visibly relaxing. "We're all friends here."

"That remains to be seen," Mortimer says. "You're an Auror. Has Quebec sunk so low?"

"I wouldn't call it low," PK says. "And anyway, you know how low our province's Aurors have sunk."

"Dealing with an insane Dark wizard," Mortimer says. "The press would be shocked."

"They're not the only ones, if we proved it."

"Have you been this inept at gathering evidence?"

"There have been complications," PK says. "And there's Doan to worry about, too."

Mortimer presses his lips together. He doesn't like Doan; good. That will make the rest of this easier.

"I can bring them to justice," PK says. "I just need the evidence you have."

"And implicate myself?" Mortimer snorts. "An admirable attempt. But no."

"No," PK says. "That's not what I want at all."

"Then you'd better explain yourself. I'm getting bored."

"I want to make a deal," PK says.

He was kind of hoping Mortimer would be at least a little surprised, but Mortimer doesn't so much as bat an eyelash. "We all want something."

"True," PK says. "But what I want is a little harder to get, let's say."

Mortimer still looks unimpressed. "And?"

"I want your evidence," he says again. "But I'm willing to pay for it."

"Go on."

"Magic," PK says. "You can take one day of magic, once a week, for a year."

"That won't do me much good in prison."

"Sure, but who says you'll be in prison? My targets are Martin and Doan. I know you have information on them. You can disappear easily, don't pretend you can't."

PK's gone over the pros and cons; he knows what he's asking, what he's telling Mortimer he can have. Once the mess in the Quebec Aurors is cleaned up, he and Carey will have to go right back to working against Mortimer - even as PK's giving him probably the most potent weapon PK's ever heard of.

It's a big risk. Some people might say it's a stupid one. But PK can't let Carey sacrifice himself.

"That's an inconvenience for me."

"If you don't do this, Martin will be removed," PK says flatly. "And your safety isn't guaranteed then."

"You're sure of this?"

"And serious as a heart attack."

Mortimer looks him up and down. "Fine," he says. "But I want a binding oath."

The oath is quickly done - clasped hands, witnesses, and all. PK makes it back to Carey's before he collapses. Carey's nowhere to be found - probably formulating his plot. Not that it matters. PK has a bag full of enough incriminating evidence to put Martin and Doan away for life, and tomorrow he's going to the Royal Canadian Aurors headquarters and presenting it.

And hopefully they won't question him too much about how he obtained the evidence.

He crashes on the couch before Carey gets back, and wakes up in the middle of the night to Carey coming in. Being an Auror, he's not going to sleep through that much noise; at first he thinks Carey might be drunk, but then he realizes that Carey's hitting the wall, over and over.

"Hey," PK says, sitting up. "Carey, you're going to bust your knuckles. Come on."

"I can heal it," Carey says hollowly.

"Um, and you can fix your wall, too, but that doesn't mean it's a good idea." PK approaches Carey slowly - not because he thinks Carey will punch him, but because he's worried Carey's going to hurt himself. "Come on, buddy," he says, resting a hand on Carey's arm with just enough pressure to try and discourage him from punching again.

Carey turns to him. PK does his best not to show any surprise, but - Carey looks so rough.

"Why do we do this?" Carey says. Hit voice is low and ragged-sounding.

"Because we care about making the world better," PK says. "You do it because you care. You want to fix things."

"Sometimes I think it's all just one long, deadly ego trip."

"Well, sometimes you're an idiot," PK says. "Come to bed."

Carey glances over at the couch.

PK swallows around a sudden lump in his throat and says, "It's not like we haven't been sleeping together sometimes. You could use a - friend."

"Okay," Carey says, but he doesn't move.

So it's up to PK to guide him back into his bedroom. Carey gets undressed himself, but it's PK who pulls him into bed, and it's PK who curls around him, pulling the sheet up over them and resting his head on Carey's shoulder.

"Go to sleep," PK says quietly.

He stays awake until Carey does.

The next morning, he wakes up and goes out into the kitchen. Carey's drinking coffee at the table. PK pushes down his nervousness as much as he can and says, "I'm going out today."

"Sure," Carey says, not looking up from his notebook.

Probably full of his plans. PK knows he's being a little paranoid, but damn it, he's earned it.

He drinks coffee with Carey and then stands up. He wants to kiss Carey goodbye, which is ridiculous, because presenting damning evidence to the Aurors is a lot less dangerous than going straight into a Dark wizard's stronghold. But he still kind of wants to hide from the world when he Apparates to the designated entrance point outside the headquarters in Toronto.

"Um, hi," he says when he gets to the admittance desk. "I'm an Auror with the Montreal division."

He's pretty sure the witch at the desk gets a little more disdainful at that. "Yes?"

There's no really good way to say it, so PK just gives up and says, "I have serious evidence implicating the heads of the Quebec City and Montreal Aurors in conspiracy with Dark wizards."

The witch stares, and then stares some more. PK lifts his bag and says, "It's in here."

"I'll get you an appointment with the Commissioner," she says. "If this is a hoax, please be aware that there will be repercussions."

"Of course," PK says.

She nods at the row of chairs at the back of the room. "You can sit back there."

PK sits. He should have expected this, but he didn't, really; now he has nothing to distract him from how nervous he is, and no reason not to feel incredibly worried about everything. He does his best to distract himself, but Wizarding Canada doesn't believe in giving you magazines the way Muggle doctors do. So he sits and stares at the stone walls until finally, the witch says, "He's ready for you. Follow me."

Brendan Shanahan, head of the Royal Canadian Aurors, is sitting behind a massive desk raised on a dais in his huge office. The effect is somewhat kinglike, and more than a little ridiculous; privately, PK thinks it just makes Shanahan look kind of small. Which is weird, since he's really sort of massive.

Not that he's going to say that out loud. "Sir," PK says, standing up straight and trying to look honest.

"You arrived here with quite the claim," Shanahan says.

"Yes," PK says. "It's true, though."

"I'd be interested to see your proof."

"I'm happy to give it to you." PK picks up his bag. "Who do you want to start with?"

It takes almost two hours. PK's brought his whiteboard, since the bag is charmed to be bottomless, along with everything Mortimer gave him. It's two hours of slowly guiding Shanahan through the twists and turns of the case, until finally he's laying out the evidence Mortimer gave him.

"He's dangerous, sir," PK says. "I'm worried about what he'll do if he's allowed to continue freely."

"Martin, you mean."

"And Doan," PK says, "but Martin hits a little closer to home."

Shanahan steeples his fingers. "My greatest concern is those artifacts you mentioned," he says. "The ability to take magic isn't something to be taken lightly. Task forces will need to be sent to Quebec City and Montreal to apprehend Doan and Martin, so that they can be brought to justice."

He says it portentously, like he's speaking for an audience. But this is the best outcome PK could've hoped for, so he nods, relieved. "Thank you, sir."

"I want you to lead one."

PK blinks. "I'm sorry?"

"This is your case. I want you to lead the capture of Martin."

PK can barely process this, but - "And Carey."

"Your partner?"

The word makes PK want to hide a little, given what he and Carey have been doing. But he nods. "He's been in it the whole time with me. He deserves the arrest."

"Very well," Shanahan says. "We have special forces for this. Give them an hour, and they'll be ready."

An hour doesn't seem like nearly enough time, but at the same time it seems like way too long from now. PK says, "Okay. An hour it is, then."

He tools around for an hour, shuffling and re-shuffling the evidence, going over it again, and doing a few practice curses. A raid is relatively low-risk, compared to the undercover work they've been doing, but it's not like it couldn't possibly go wrong.

Four Aurors approach him just after it's been a full hour. "Subban?"

"Call me PK," PK says. "And hold onto me. I'm going to Apparate us to Carey's."

"The other Montreal Auror?"

"My partner," PK says. This time, he doesn't want to squirm. They're going to lead the raid, like they should.

"Good," one of them says. She has a French accent; PK's not surprised when she says, "I'm Jacqueline."

"I'm Rob," another one says.

"And I'm Lee," says the third. "Let's go, shall we?"

PK glances at the fourth, but she doesn't offer her name. PK shrugs to himself and says, "Let's go," holding out his arm. Once they've grabbed onto it, he Apparates.

He lets them into Carey's apartment. Carey's standing in the kitchen; when he sees them, he blinks.

"I got evidence," PK says, "of Martin and Doan's crimes."

"Ah," Carey says. His eyes flicker from PK to the other Aurors, and PK thinks: he knows. Of course he knows. PK's not subtle enough to fool someone who knows him as well as Carey.

"Well, I'm ready," Carey says, before it has a chance to get awkward. "Let's go."

PK nods. "Should we take the bus?"

"It's probably more subtle," Carey says, "but your friends there aren't exactly dressed like Muggles."

"We'll Apparate, then," PK says. "I want to get this over with."

Carey's hand flexes at his side. "You have no idea," he says. He takes out his wand. "Let's go."

PK realizes the office is deserted right away. For a horrible moment he thinks Mortimer might have sold him out; it's certainly within the guy's MO. But then he remembers the Doan raid. They should have been able to magically make sure Doan and Martin couldn't communicate, but maybe something got through.

And a cup of coffee at Brian's desk is still steaming.

PK grits his teeth. "Everyone, be careful," he says. They advance, wands held out in front of them, getting closer and closer to Martin's office.

The ceiling collapses.

It's mostly in front of them, but a chunk hits Carey and he recoils. "You okay?" PK says.

"Fine," Carey says. He shakes his head, dust flying out of his hair. "Let's go."

They're a lot more wary after that. PK's not surprised when they get to Martin's office and Martin's standing there, wand out, surrounded by the remnants of his furniture. They're whirling around him so quickly PK can barely get a sight on him - and he has no confidence that an attempted curse wouldn't backfire and hit one of them instead.

"God damn it," Carey mutters.

"God doesn't have much to do with it," Martin says. "I'd expect you to use Muggle curses, though. You always were a filthy, low-blooded -"

"That's enough," PK snaps.

Martin raises his eyebrows. "Then come stop me."

PK raises his wand. He's about to cast an unraveling spell when Martin begins chanting an invocation.

"Dissuo!" PK yells.

The bits of furniture crash to the ground - and Carey disappears.

"Carey!" PK launches forward, to the empty space Carey was, but he feels nothing and he doesn't follow Carey to wherever he went.

Martin laughs. "An Eternity Pocket," Martin says. "How long do you think he'll last, then?"

"You -" PK launches forward, but before he has a chance to touch Martin, a Stunning spell goes over his shoulder and hits a rippling shield surrounding Martin.

"Dissuo!" PK yells again. "Dissuo! Silencio!" And then, as the shield cracks and Martin tries to talk, no words coming out of his mouth, PK casts another Stunning spell.

Martin falls to the ground. The other Aurors rush to apprehend him, but PK casts a searching spell, desperately trying to find the trap Martin laid for Carey.

It takes him fifteen minutes; fifteen minutes of desperate searching, aware that his time is running out. Finally, though, he finds it, the tiny tear that he can withdraw and fold back into the known universe.

Carey falls to the ground with a thud.

His face is grey, his breath coming in rattled half-gasps. There's air in Eternity Pockets, but not enough, not nearly enough. He's unconscious. PK would cast a healing spell, but he doesn't know which one.

"Here," Jacqueline says. "He's in shock." She kneels next to PK and runs her wand over Carey. It glows with soft light, and slowly, the color comes back into Carey's face.

When he opens his eyes, PK feels a wave of relief that he's never felt before, overwhelming even his gladness that Martin is in custody. "Carey," he says.

Carey blinks up at him. "We get him?"

"We've got him," PK says.

Carey grimaces. "Good." He sits up, then turns to look at Martin, who's sitting on the floor, bound hand and foot. "Let's get this bastard back to Toronto."

Delivering Martin to Toronto goes well. Shanahan tells them Doan's been apprehended too, and thanks them for their service. They've gotten in contact with the other members of the Quebec Auror's office, and are questioning them under Veritaserum.

They all fill out the beginning of what's sure to be mountains of paperwork, and then, finally, PK and Carey are given leave to go back to Montreal. They Apparate together without saying anything about the case; it's not until they're on the street outside Carey's that PK realizes he can go back home now.

"All of your stuff's in storage, right?" Carey says.

PK shrugs. "I can probably order a bed. Our bonuses will be enough."

Carey presses his lips together. "Right. Sure. Well."

PK shifts from foot to foot. "I'll be seeing you."

"We have work tomorrow."

"Right. I just meant, you know, it was kind of..."

Carey looks at him.

"Never mind," PK says.

He's turning to leave when Carey says, "What'd you promise him?"

PK turns. "What?"

"Mortimer. I saw the evidence. It's obviously his files. So what'd you promise him? Unless we arrested him and everyone just forgot to mention it."

PK can't think of anything he'd like to do less than explain this to Carey. But he says, "A day of magic, once a week, for a year," exactly like he told Mortimer.

Carey stares at PK. He blinks. Then he says, very slowly, "Are you serious?"

"You were going to kill Martin," PK says. There's no sense in talking around it. "We needed justice - we needed to resolve this in a way that didn't involve you going to prison."

"I wasn't going to go to prison."

"So, what, were you going to die?"

Carey glares.

And PK - PK's starting to get angry, because he doesn't get it. "How do you think I'd feel if you died? Or your family?"

"That's beside the point."

"No," PK says. "No, I think it kind of is the point." He doesn't know how to say the next bit; he can't make himself say it, but he has to. After some struggle, he manages to say, "We're partners. And you don't think it's important to me that you stay alive and out of prison?"

Carey shrugs. "Not as important as bringing Martin down is."

PK hardly ever feels this kind of anger. "That's completely stupid."

"Fine," Carey says. "You can leave now." He turns his back to PK and walks down the hall.

PK's never been one for explosive fights. He's an easygoing guy, and he's not really into fighting for no good reason. But right now he wishes he and Carey'd had an explosive fight, just so he could be feeling something right now, aside from vaguely angry and mostly hollowly betrayed.

He leaves silently, levitating his bag down the stairs and then Apparating to his own apartment. When he makes it inside, he sits down on the floor; some of his furniture is still here, covered in white slipcovers, but he doesn't want to sit on his couch. Or maybe it's just that he doesn't care.

He's been in love before; he just wasn't expecting this thing with Carey to hurt this much.

He knows he needs to talk to his family about this, but he's not even sure who he'd floo. He has a lot to explain, at this point. Instead, he calls Caro on his Muggle cell phone.

"Good job," Caro says.

"Thanks."

"Of course, now you're Mortimer's man."

"We have a deal," PK says. "We sealed it with an Unbreakable Oath. He won't come after me for more than he's owed."

"A day without magic, once a week, for a year."

"A small price," PK says. "Carey was going to sacrifice himself."

"That sort of thing can happen when one dedicates oneself to law enforcement."

PK sighs. "That doesn't mean it should, though."

"There's a reason my people don't meddle."

"I know you don't. But someone has to."

"Maybe," Caro says. "Either way, I am glad it's over."

"Is it?"

"Well, no," Caro says. "But you've made significant steps."

PK didn't become an Auror to eradicate Dark magic. He knows that's impossible. "Steps will have to do."

"Don't try to contact me again," Caro says. "You won't find myself or Melissa."

"Thank her for me. She helped a lot."

"I will." Caro pauses. "Take care of yourself," she says, and hangs up.

It's sort of bizarrely comforting that apparently, vampires are crap at goodbyes, too. PK sets the phone down and looks around his apartment.

It's so clean. Cleaner than it ever was with PK actually living here.

He ends up sleeping on the couch, with the slip cover on top of him for some slight warmth. He's aware it's kind of pathetic, but he misses Carey so much it hurts, and he's not interested in going out to buy sheets. This is fine, he tells himself as he drifts off to sleep. He'll get over it eventually.

The worst thing about feeling like shit the next morning isn't that he feels like shit; it's that he has to get up and go to work with Carey. Still, he pushes through it, and is in the office by nine.

Which is when he remembers he doesn't technically have a boss anymore.

"PK," Hal says, looming over his desk.

"Um, hi," PK says. "Is Martin's office -"

"It's a crime scene," Hal says. "For now, the esteemed head of this branch will be working from an interrogation room."

"Cheerful," PK says. "Where is he now?"

"In a meeting upstairs," Hal says. "Flooing the director, I believe."

"Oh." PK turns the information over in his mind. "Have you seen Carey?"

Hal squints at him. "I'd appreciate it if you'd tell me what information you want from me. It's clearly not if I've actually see him."

Hal is really good at making that kind of request sound completely intimidating. PK says, "I just wanted to know - we fought, okay?"

"Well, talk to him," Hal says. "You won't stay fighting for long. My daughters don't either."

"Your daughters are kids."

"That's my point," Hal says. He looks sarcastically amused. "He'll probably be in soon. Keep your head up - and congratulations on the collar."

"Thanks," PK says. He does have getting Martin under his belt, at least. Legally.

Hal leaves, and then PK's left to his paperwork. He was right about it when they arrested Martin; there's mountains of it. He's made his way through half of the incident report when Carey shows up, sitting down at his desk across from PK.

"Hi," PK says.

"We should get an assignment soon," Carey says, and grabs his own report, looking away from PK.

Wow. PK wasn't expecting it to hurt this much. "Yeah," he says.

He wants to ask if Carey's hoping for an undercover assignment, if he wants to rest for awhile. But he's hyper-aware of how little Carey will welcome those types of questions, so instead he doesn't say anything. He turns back to his paperwork and tries to focus on that.

That night, he lies on his couch and tries to figure out what's wrong with him. He's worked with Carey for six months now; realistically, that's not a very long time. Not long enough, some people would say - and they'd probably be right. So why is he upset? Why does he care so much? He can't figure it out, aside from knowing that he wants to stay with Carey. Maybe they won't date forever, but PK's love life hasn't been stellar since Auror school, and he'd at least like a chance.

But, he thinks, it goes beyond that. Yeah, sure, he wants to date Carey; and yeah, pretending to be a couple was apparently kind of confusing for PK. But he also just really likes Carey. He likes how wry he is, and he likes the way it feels when Carey manhandles him in bed. Carey's intense and cares so much about being an Auror, and PK wants to be around him. He wants to sleep with him when they're not in danger of dying.

By the time he gives up on turning the problem over in his mind, he feels a lot more self-aware. Unfortunately, he also has no idea how to resolve it. Carey's pissed at him, and PK's pretty pissed at Carey, and they're both angry for really serious reasons. He doesn't see an easy resolution anywhere in there.

He's very clearly hit a dead end, so he goes to sleep. That's much easier than giving himself insomnia over Carey. And at least, PK thinks - at least Carey's alive.

The rest of the week goes pretty much exactly the same. PK and Carey finish up their paperwork, and then are put on light duty for the rest of the week, de-enchanting cursed Muggle objects. PK kind of wants to protest, because it reminds him - chillingly - of the time he spent in that awful room for Mortimer, trying to ignore how afraid he was of this sudden turn in his career. But he doesn't say anything, and by Friday he's disarmed five cursed rings and two cursed vases.

"I'll see you Monday," he says to Carey at five on Friday.

Carey nods curtly and leaves.

PK sighs. He's already getting tired of being heartbroken; it's really not his thing. But there's, realistically, not a lot he can do about it; so he goes home alone, picking up takeout on the way.

On Saturday, he waits for Mortimer. Mortimer, being not the greatest guy in the world, really makes him sweat: it's not until 2 o'clock that he shows up.

"All you need to do is stand," Mortimer says, and completes the ceremony. PK kind of half blacks out during it, from fear. But by the end of it, he feels normal - except for his lack of magic.

He kind of hopes Carey will at least Floo him, but he doesn't see or talk to Carey all day.

On Monday, Carey gets in earlier than PK does. He looks up when PK approaches, eyes narrowing, looking PK up and down.

PK knows what he's looking for. "I told you, we did an Unbreakable Oath," PK says. "I'm fine."

"Just wasn't sure if he'd come on a Sunday," Carey says. "It would've been a problem if he had. We have an appointment with Boucher at ten."

PK can't really throttle his excitement at that. "An assignment?"

"I assume that's what the meeting's for." Carey scratches at his paper, twirling his pen on his fingers.

It's kind of hot. PK looks away.

"Great," he says, and sits down.

An incredibly awkward hour later, they stand up and go into Boucher's office - which is now where Martin's office was, though it's a modern room instead of the heavily furnished, kind of tacky office Martin preferred. They sit down, and Boucher says, "Well. The saviors."

He's kind of...growly, PK thinks. But his office instincts kick in before he has time to wonder if the Royal Canadian Aurors have given them another Dark director. "I'm glad we can finally meet," he says.

"I wanted to read your report first, get your mettle," Boucher says. He taps the reports on his desk, but keeps his eyes on PK and Carey. "You're quite the duo."

"We're professionals," Carey says.

It's just the wrong side of insubordinate. PK opens his mouth to apologize, but Boucher just laughs. "I like your attitude, lucky for you," he says. "So tell me, what assignment are you two looking for?"

"PK's used to office work," Carey says.

PK doesn't recoil. He's a trained Auror: he doesn't even twitch. But he wants to throttle Carey. "And Carey's used to undercover work," PK says. "So a compromise might make sense. Some field work, maybe?"

"That's hardly the request of the heroes of Montreal."

"We were doing our job," Carey says.

"I see," Boucher says. "Well, lucky for you both, I don't buy into false modesty. The player you were chasing before has gotten away: I want you to find him."

Carey glances at PK. PK knows everything he's thinking, and kind of hates Carey for making him be the one to say it. "Sir," PK says. "We'd prefer not to."

"Oh, really."

"That case was difficult for us." PK swallows, then makes himself say, "Traumatic. We'd like to move on." Anything not to mention the Unbreakable Oath.

"Very well," Boucher says. "We've got a criminal breaking into Wizarding homes in the area and leaving no trace. How about you two get on that case? I'll have the files sent over to your desk."

"Thanks," PK says.

That's the end of the meeting. The files are waiting for them in the thirty seconds it takes them to get back to their desks, and PK pounces on them, grateful for a distraction.

After thirty minutes of reading them, Carey says, "He could have an Invisibility Cloak."

PK shakes his head. "Those are rare, and the right combination of look-away charms can have a similar effect."

"You'd know."

It's a dig, but PK ignores it. "I would," he says. "No, I think it's more likely they're using some kind of spell-piercing tool. You can buy them on the black market. They're not indetectable, but I doubt the rookies who did this report would know what to look for."

"So we're going to investigate some of the houses?"

PK grins. "Right in one."

It feels right, Apparating to the last house to be broken into. They present their badges and poke around the house, and PK casts the revealing spell that shows the tell-tale frayed edges of security wards. It's not like Carey claps him on the back in congratulations and asks to go out for a drink after, or something. They have to hunt for the illegal object, after all. But Carey does say, "Good job. I wouldn't have thought of that."

"Thanks," PK says.

Carey gathers his things and leaves without another word.

Probably the worst part about all this is that they can still work together. If, somehow, their professional relationship was also ruined, then PK would feel justified in telling Carey they have to cut it out. But they can work together just fine, so PK'd feel like a liar, trying to get them to become friends again.

They find the cursed object after two days, and Boucher puts them on another job - this time, investigating a series of violent muggings in Montreal's Wizarding district. They're still working on that when Friday rolls around, so PK adds a few more bits of information to his whiteboard before packing his things up for the weekend.

"You're awfully quiet," Carey says.

"Not a lot to say."

Carey opens his mouth, then shuts it with a click. PK almost wants to press, but then Carey says, "I'll see you later," and leaves.

That's that, then. PK sighs and leaves.

Mortimer comes by at ten AM on Saturday, so apparently PK passed the mental test of waiting until late afternoon. By noon, PK's making an omelet by hand and trying to pretend being without magic on a weekend day doesn't bother him.

He's surprised when there's a knock at the door - surprised and worried, because if it's someone hostile, he doesn't have magic to defend himself. Aurors, he thinks wryly, and goes to the door, looking through the peephole.

It's Carey.

PK pulls the door open so fast he almost hits himself in the face with it. "What are you doing here?"

Carey makes a face, shifting hands shoved deep into his hoodie. "Can I come in?"

Part of PK - the part that's hurt, the part that's been hurt for weeks - wants to tell him no. Instead, he says, "Sure," and steps aside.

Carey doesn't go into the living room. He stands in the foyer, stock still, and says, "I'm sorry."

PK blinks.

"You're right, I was going to break the law. And not in a smart way, like you have. I was going to just -" Carey pulls a hand out to wave it. "I practiced the killing curse. I was out of line. You were right."

It's not the most eloquent apology in the world, but Carey's really driving the nail into the board as far as saying sorry goes, so PK revives himself from his shock enough to say, "It's okay."

Now it's Carey's turn to blink.

"You're right," PK says. "You were an idiot. But it's over. That whole case is over. We should be moving on. And it sucks, not being friends with you."

Something passes over Carey's face, but it's gone as fast as it appears, and he looks more or less blank again. "Friends. Yeah. So - I thought I'd hang out. Help you out, if you need magic."

"It's only for a year," PK says. "Could be worse."

"Is that a no?"

"No, it's a yes," PK says. He lets himself relax a little. "Come on. I was going to watch a Muggle movie. All that fake violence can be relaxing."

Carey sprawls on PK's couch like nothing's even happened. He seems perfectly happy to steal the remote from PK and make fun of his taste in Muggle entertainment. PK's torn between being happy and feeling kind of crazy, because it can't be this easy, can it? They can't just - magically go back to being friends, without ever mentioning how often they slept together. But then Carey leans in and jostles PK jokingly over PK's love of children's shows, and PK jostles him back, and for a single split second, Carey's looming over PK on the couch and their faces are inches apart.

Then Carey pushes himself backward and clears his throat. "Sorry."

"No problem," PK says faintly. The other option is begging for an explanation, and he'd like to think he has some kind of pride.

They go back to watching the movie, but PK feels like time's slowed down. He's never been good at the talking part of relationships, and as bad as he is, he's pretty sure Carey's worse; there are plenty of reasons for them to have trouble with each other. But PK's magicless right now, on a gamble to keep Carey safe, and that has to mean something, right? Carey's here with him, despite PK lying to him and breaking the law - that has to mean something too, surely. If PK's learned anything in the last few months, it's that he is actually capable of taking risks, and that sometimes his risks have reward.

So before he manages to lose his nerve, he says, "I made this deal so you wouldn't die."

"We've covered that," Carey says stiffly.

He still has the remote, so PK says, "Can you pause it?"

Carey glares at him, but he does. PK looks at Bruce Willis running away from an explosion and says, "It's not just that I didn't want you to die. We were sleeping together."

"I'm aware. Do we have to have this conversation?"

"I'd really rather we did," PK says. "We lived out this ridiculous drama, and at the end of it, the thing I'm saddest about isn't losing a weekend day of magic, it's the fact that I don't get to touch you anymore."

He thinks he's explained himself pretty well. But then Carey laughs hollowly and says, "PK, I'm pretty sure you can get laid somewhere else."

"That's not what I mean," PK says. Carey's so fucking dense sometimes. PK's going to have to out and say it. "I mean I wanted to keep doing that, with you. I mean I'm in love with you, okay? So going from fucking to barely speaking, yeah, that was rough. And I just think, you know, I don't actually want to return to the dating pool. I'd really rather - what?"

Carey's staring at him, and at some point in PK's babbling, he moved closer. "You what?" Carey says, voice rasping.

PK has the acute and somewhat hysterical awareness that Carey looks almost happy. "I don't want to date anyone else," he says.

"Right," Carey says. "Good. Me neither." He quirks a bit of a smile. "The other stuff, too."

PK lets himself smile. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Carey says, and reaches out.

PK lets Carey put his hand on PK's shoulder and lean in. But before Carey kisses him, PK says, "Hang on."

Carey stops.

"You're not going to do something crazy like have me moved to another department, are you?"

Carey snorts, which is pretty unromantic since it's happening inches from PK's face. "You're the leader of the Martin capture. I couldn't if I tried," he says, and kisses PK.

PK gets the admiration there, and that as much as the kiss makes him feel like he's flying, hurtling through the air on the best, most responsive broom ever made. He kisses back, curling his fingers into Carey's hair and pressing up against Carey, holding onto Carey's arm with his free hand. He's weak right now by Wizarding standards, but he can push Carey further back and climb into his lap, all without breaking the kiss - so he does, and then he leans back and laughs, still holding onto Carey's hair.

"You'd better not be laughing at me," Carey says.

But when PK looks down, his cheeks are flushed and he's smiling that half-smile that means he's too happy to be really obvious about it. PK laughs again. "No," he says. "Well, I'm laughing at us. Does that count?"

"Asshole," Carey says, and pulls PK back down.

There's no information on Monday about whether or not the new team assigned to the case has made progress on finding Mortimer. PK went over the case with its Aurors, Chu and Markov, already; as far as he knows, they haven't found him yet. For now, PK's stuck with a weekend without magic, and with his bargain hanging over his head.

They catch the muggers on Wednesday. It's a fairly simple case, open and shut, and they're filling out paperwork late Wednesday afternoon when Boucher calls them into his office.

"How do you feel about forests?"

"Um," PK says.

Boucher smiles at him. It's crooked and kind of maniacal, made even more so by his scar. "My esteemed predecessor didn't just happen to have a spot in the woods he dug a hole for. Someone's running an operation spanning most of Quebec, selling various spaces for Dark wizards to keep their secrets in."

This sounds good, PK thinks. Really good. "And you want us to find out who."

"Exactly."

PK looks over at Carey. Carey quirks his eyebrows and smirks a little.

PK turns back to Boucher. "Sir, it would be our honor to track the responsible parties down."

"Excellent," Boucher says. "I'll have the case information sent to your desk. Good luck, gentlemen."

"Thanks," PK says.

They stand up and exit together. By the time they get back to their desks, the files have appeared. They're thick and stuffed full of disorganized information. "My favorite," PK says, pulling out tattered memos and old maps.

"Should we start in the forest?" Carey says.

"That makes sense," PK says. "We should go over this, though."

"You take that massive pile, I'll take this one," Carey says, snagging some paper. "Kind of makes you wonder just how much land happens to belong to wizards in Quebec."

"Something tells me we're about to find out."

PK's smiling. He can't help it; this is a big, important case, and he's excited. He's not at all surprised when Carey smiles back.