Mistaken Identities

She laughed. It was hard to make her even smile on a night when everythign around her was so serious, but he'd made her laugh. She appreciated that. "You're right--I am tired. Well, I had forgotten that its been a few nights since I was able to go home and sleep." She wasn't going to tell him this was now night four, but, well, who was counting anyway?

"You know, I will have to give my father Phae's file anyway, since he is in a duel role here. I'm not going to let him know right now that I am fully aware that he almost outranks me here." She smiled at bit, still feeling a cross between needing to be a bit mischievious with her father and keeping control for herself. Khaat had long ago assigned herself a self imposed role as the one person in sole charge of making sure that her afther did not ever get too big for his britches. If he started to take himself too seriously or powerfully, Khaat's sole job was to make sure that he reeled himself in. So far, she had managed to keep Robert Lupin a likeable man to almost everyone--everyone except her husband, pretty much. Rob still called Khaat's father a prick on a regular basis. Her father just ignored Rob's blatant attempts to get his goat. It just never worked. The way Khaat had it figured, Robert barely heard Rob's insults anymore. She fitgured her father would be far more shocked and take more notice of Rob if he were actually civilized.

Khaat drew out a death certificate and completed it for Phae. It was a grim job, but it had to be done. Khaat was, she figured, the one with the most accurate calcuation of the moment of death at the moment. She knew her father had probalby planned on doing that job, but it was important to Khaat to do it. She put in in Phae's file. She completed a few other forms, maily to make sure that personnel matters were going to be taken care of expeditiously.

She looked up at Blaire. "I have to get them, Blaire. I can't let either of them get away with this." She realized she had just revealed that there had been a second assailant. "I guess that's the disadvantage of being a seer, I guess. I know what they look like. There were two. The one who attacked me was not the one who killed Phae. I've never seen either of them before, but I'm sure going to make sure I see them again. And I don't know that I can let the trail get cold." She sighed heavily. She was starting to make the mistake of letting herself feel her fatigue. If she were not careful, that might well keep her from follwing through with what she wanted to do. That, and how bad her head was. It was just stinking miserable. Every little movement she made of her head made everything spin. She was more graeful than she was ever going to be able to express to Blaire that he was staying with her. She did not want to fall flat on the floor, and she sharply was beginning to fear that was coming if she were not careful. "He's going to want this next. I know how he works. Can I talk you into helping me back? And no, I am not giving them any statemetns about what I know. I"m catching these idiots myself."

She went back to the lounge, but she got dizzy once badly enough that she needed to clutch onto Blaire and right herself. The hallway sort of looked sideways to her skewed vision. "Damn it," she cursed softly. She took a moment to pull herself together and looked to see where she had gotten. She was right in front of the lounge doorway. She saw her father glaring at her. She saw his eyes that he was staring at the folder in her hand. He wanted it--now. And right at the moment, she just wanted to be sitting, with Blaire's arm around her shoulder. This was all starting to get to her.

Flopping down on the singed couch, Rob propped his feet up on the overturned coffee table. He opened his bag and took out a small vial of potion. It was emerald green and to him it looked as yummy as hell. He uncorked it and downed it in a swift motion before putting the vial back into his bag. He put his hands behind his head and licked his lips. “I didn’t saying anything you wanted to hear did I?” Rob asked, glancing at Matt. “Unfortunately I’m not treading eggshells around you. I was trying to be ‘PC’ about it but unfortunately it seems as if I’ll have to go back to basics so you don’t end up with a brain tumour due to over use. Right, here I go; biology and sex for idiots 101. I could teach a class. If your darling daughter isn’t a virgin then she is worth nothing on the market. Maybe she slept around or had a relationship with a teacher. Maybe it was Wilson or McCoy. Those eyebrows are sexy, who wouldn’t want a piece of that? I myself tried my luck with my Herbology teacher in my forth year. She made me feed the Venus Flytrap and although it nearly ate me after I tried to grope her, she did in fact let me live. Nice woman, she works in the Ministry now. But my point is, if something is stretched or ruined then she’s worth nothing. I mean there are only really three or four good points of a woman. Breasts, ass and that lovely little bit that everyone loves. Of course then there’s the mouth but I take that one back because it’s awful when they open it and spout things you don’t need to hear.”

Rob looked thoughtful and played with a lock of hair before speaking again. “But then again, her ass could be completely ruined. I hear that butt cheek tattoos are really bad for you, the ink deflates the tissue. Then there’s the best bit, implants. They’re quick and simple to install in the bosoms, fun to play with too, they’re quite squidgy. But you can’t replace a virgin unless you confund the poor bloke. Although granted you would have thought that you would have saved her instead of confunding him. That’s really bad parenting actually. How very odd. But none of that is relevant. What was I going to say? I have no idea but perhaps if you put your wand away and stop looking gormlessly at me then you’d find out why no one in one of your departments say anything about the Azkaban breakout. I would have thought you’d be the first to know being Minister and all. But what can you do? If they were my employees then I’d fire ‘em, arrest me or, as the case would be, you and boot you back to jail but you’re not going to do that Matthew because you need someone that doesn’t have concussion and isn’t a twat but also knows about the criminal underworld and the general prices of non-virgins. What do you call them anyway? Look that doesn’t matter. But that person isn’t my lovely yet slightly confused wife nor her father who looks just as confused as his daughter or that idiotic little healer that thinks she knows everything. Also that guy that keeps following Khaat around. That’s a bit too weird even for my tasts. I’m that guy by the way, the one that’s going to bring your daughter back alive while intoxicated and possibly stoned. I haven’t decided if I want to be the latter but the former definitely sounds good. So while you fire your employees, those with the brain capacity will think deeper into the problem at hand.”

“What do you do when you figure out that your kidnappers have figured out what everyone already knew – you’re not a virgin. Well, I suppose you should think back and wonder, am I any good with my hands? If the question is no then try feet, if it continues to be no then try every movable appendage on your body. If suddenly you discover you have a tail, bypass that and try mouth. If mouth fails then I’d ask for a clean coffin and a nice burial ground. Mass graves have never been popular although granted who would really want to end up in a mass grave? Think of all the hands, too much touching would go on. Did you know that in the Middle Ages most people were buried alive because the doctors couldn’t find a pulse? They started to tie bits of string that were attached to ropes to the victims’ wrist so when they started clawing at the coffin the bell would ring and they could get them out of the ground. I wonder what happened to coma patients... Don’t you just love useless information that nearly everyone knows but loves to hear again? I do. Funny that. Another thing we all have in common.”

The whole thing was a farce and he was wittering away to make his thoughts sound good. Well, they did make sense to him because the idiot wasn’t going to find his kid on his own. “Well, I’m going to go for a take-away.” Rob announced, standing up. “What does everyone want? Chinese? Japanese? Fish and Chips? Indian? Right now I’d kill for a curry. Although granted you don’t want to kill the Indians, they came here to cook us curry and work in Heathrow, it would be rude to kill them. I have seventy-five quid so....Robert, what do you want? Maybe a pizza, pizzas are good. Or a kebab, maybe?”

"Curry for me, thanks," Robert said absently, walking over and taking the file out of Khaat's hands. "Give me that. You are relieved. You're injured."

Khaat's head was pounding, and she had no patience for her father's controlling ways, or of Rob's prattling while under the influence. He obviously just had never learned to handle the real world. However, at this point, he was seriously pushing his luck with Matt and about to be hurled back into a dark, dank Azkaban cell just because he was acting like a vulgar idiot. And the more she listened to him, the less she liked his rant.

She drew her wand, leveled it at Rob and shouted, "ZIP IT!!" She fired her wand at him, and his lips were transfigured into a large toothed metal zipper that was stuck shut. There. That would solve that for the moment. And she was NOT changing him back. Not until she knew his mouth would not send him back to Azkaban. She knew he was too damn drugged to see that she was truly protecting him, but oh well. Someday he would thank her for stopping his diarrhea of the mouth.

"And just so you know, Rob, this is NOT yours to pursue!" She said, her eyes flashing at him in anger. "She wasn't ever anything more to you than some little tart that you kidnapped and somehow got a crush on. Some of the rest of us actually had the pleasure of working with her every day and actually cared about her. I brought you up here so you could see her and say goodbye. Nothing more. I dont need or want your help to get her killer. You don't know what you're looking for. This is mine! ALL mine. I will get this straightened around, and I'll hand deliver the culprit to you, Matt. She was MY healer, and Sophia was kidnapped and Phae died on MY watch. I'm responsible here. Nobody else. You all stay the hell out of it. You have your report made and your evidence gathered. Now, go back to your offices and let me do my job."

She spun around to turn and leave and fell smack into Blaire, her legs not holding her well. She clutched his jacket to keep from falling. Great. Just freaking great. NObody seemed to get it. This was her fault. She was the one who really and truly needed to make it right. It wasn't just a job to her. It was the only way she could hope to live with herself.

Why was everyone questioning him? He may have been completely out of it for the most part but he knew exactly what he was doing...kind of. Rob didn’t have to explain himself to them; he was too busy trying to figure things out for himself. Khaat obviously needed to be restrained or drugged, either one. He was happy to oblige either way but right now he wanted to get some sort of idea on what exactly was going on. So, Rob conjured a whiteboard and a pen before quickly scribbling something down onto the board. “I can’t get food if my mouth is zipped shut, idiot. I’d probably be arrested too. Muggles are scared of magic after all.” Rob shrugged. Either way, his wife was probably having a mental breakdown and his daughter was probably with her friend that was probably more likely to be a bed warmer than anything else. Brilliant. Rob grinned, or tried to, and rubbed out his writing before scribbling something else down and turning to Matt so he could read the whiteboard. “I think you’ve got a confession! Arrest her!” He then rubbed that out and wrote something else before holding out for Robert to see. “What type of curry? Korma? Chicken Tikka? What?”

Khaat read the wording on the white wipeoff board. It didn't even dignify an answer. He was being an idiot. The drugs did this to him. He had been reasonable when he was sober. Now he was an ass.

"I really don't care if you can eat or not," Khaat said dryly to him. "There are a lot of alternative ways to feed you without your needing to eat. I am a healer, you know. Besides, if you can't open your mouth, first of all, it keeps you from sticking your foot in it. And maybe it at least slows down your addiction to potions. You actually were looking civil before you drank that horsecrap. Now you just don't know what you're talking about--which is why I zipped you shut. If you can act and talk like a grown man, I'll undo it, gladly."

"Chicken Tikka, please," Robert said. "I can help with paying for the curry. But, so you know, your wife didn't kill anybody. You ought to be able to figure that out, potions or not. Your own deductions about the evidence in here showed you that Khaat didn't kill anyone. And if you had spent any time to get to know her, you'd have known what she's upset about. But you don't really have a clue.

" Blaire, please consider taking Khaat home. No telling how long she's been without sleep, and, if I know her, she probably has had more than her fair share of French Roast. I presume you won't let her go on any manhunts until she can at least stand up on her own, perhaps even with a pair of shoes on. I am quite sure you can take good care of her. And, Rob, I will undo that for you in a moment. But Khaat's right. You were pretty over the top. Now, what on earth is that confused look on your face about? You obviously have something on your mind. What's your question?"

Rob rolled his eyes and kicked his shoes off. He swivelled his hips and laid himself on the singed couch. He put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. He could stay there all day, he didn’t care. He’d even go as far as to take a sleeping potion just to piss them off even further because that was the type of person he was: annoying. This was what they got for abusing him in such a way. In future he wouldn’t bother.

Well, at least Rob was behaving now. She hoped Rob was not using his leglimens enough to know that Khaat was withholding a lot of information about this. So far, no one had asked her, and she wasn't volunteering it. She waved her wand and reversed the transfiguration she had done on his mouth. He was back to normal again.

She had memorized the address for Phae out of her file. She decided Phae had laid on the floor long enough. She looked at Blaire. "I'll be right back. I can't stand this anymore." She went over to Phae and laid her hand on Phae's shoulder. She apparated Phae's body down to the morgue and put her in "cold storage" so that they could conduct the appropriate autopsy later. She was far beyond giving a crap about what anybody else thought. Phae could tell them no more. She deserved some dignity. At least, if she was handled in any sort of sensitive manner, it would help. And Khaat really was trying. She had cared about Phae, and she wanted to do her justice.

She apparated back upstairs. "I am not needed here," she told them. "And this leaves me a great deal to do. If you will excuse me..." She turned and left, returning to her office. She had a few things to finish up. She wanted to issue Phae's last paycheck so she could take that to her family when she went to Greece. She went to Phae's office and locker and retrieved all Phae's personal belongings so that she had them as well.

She wanted to go change into missions clothing and then go hunting this man who killed Phae, the woman who had attacked her and also hopefully find Sophia. That was her agenda from here on out.