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Easter Six and the Deadly Dowsing

Part 2

For bbbuuu

By Draconicon

By the time that Dowsley reached the hotel room, the bellhop-inspired boner had thankfully faded away. He groaned at the feeling of his pants being tighter than he wanted due to the blue-balls feeling that had remained, but that was something that the border collie could deal with. Better to be a bit uncomfortable between the legs for a bit than to indulge in fantasies that a mentor really shouldn't touch on.

Room 532 was right on the edge of the hotel, and he imagined that Easter had specifically asked for a room that overlooked the cathedral. He tapped on the door, and the rabbit called out from across the room.

"It's open."

He nudged the door, and so it was. Stepping inside, he saw the black-furred rabbit sitting on a chair by the window, his suit jacket tossed on the floor by the nearby bed. As expected, the window looked right down at the church, and specifically, right down at the wall that Easter had pointed out had been sprayed down and cleaned.

"Good find," Dowsley said.

"It works. Pretty sure we'll be staring at that thing for a while."

"Just because the 'scent' led back here doesn't mean that it's the final resting place." He rubbed his nose, pinching it and wincing slightly from the pressure. "There's a lot of interference around here."

"Surprised that's such a problem."

"Magic messes with my ability."

"I guess..."

Easter shook his head, not having turned from the window during the entire conversation. Dowsley's eyes flicked down to the rabbit's ass in the seat, and once more, he was reminded of what the bellhop had said downstairs. Fighting the growl that wanted to come out of his throat, he walked over to the first bed - thankfully there were two - and sat down, taking a few deep breaths.

"HQ says that we're to avoid making contact with whatever this is until we get a full confirmation of what we're working with. I don't suppose you heard anything?"

"Heh, plenty."

"...Oh? From whom?"

"People like to talk, Chase. And the guys down at the front desk had a lot to say."

"In two minutes?"

"They were done in one."

"Then what did they say?"

"Aside from the fact that the cathedral's pretty damn old? There was a fight down there pretty recently. Something about a gang trying to shake down the priests inside, except that we got a priest that knows how to fight in there."

"That's not uncommon; they come from all walks of life."

"Yeah, well, this one beat the snot out of four gang members by himself."

By himself. Yes, that would be a little more uncommon. While it was certainly possible, particularly with training and the gear that members of the agency carried, it would still be a bit tricky to fight that many people at once without getting a fair bit of damage yourself. Either the gang was rubbish, the priest was particularly good, or...

Or someone wasn't what he said he was.

"Anything else?"

"Just that they threatened to burn down the cathedral if the priest didn't get his head out of his ass before running off." Easter shook his head, still not meeting the border collie's eyes. "From what the clerks down there heard, it sounded like they meant it, but there's not been anything else going on just yet."

"Hmm..."

Dowsley tapped his chin, his other hand resting on his thigh as he puzzled through the information. He doubted that it was as cut and dried as Easter was presenting it, but at the same time, he had to admit that it pointed them right back at the cathedral. Despite that, he hated it when something was so obvious; it usually meant that there was some sort of misdirection going on, and he didn't want to start something that would cause more of a problem than they could handle.

It might be that they were dealing with someone at the cathedral, but just because the priest was able to fight off a bunch of gang members didn't mean that he was the problem here, only that he might be.

Glancing at Easter again, he couldn't help but be impressed that the rabbit had gotten that much extra information, and in such a short time. More than that, he was rather disappointed in himself for being so flustered down in the lobby that he hadn't bothered to do the same thing. That was a bad slip, and one that was more suitable to a rookie than to someone with his experience in the SBI.

Shaking his head, he took a deep breath, forcing his thoughts back on the now.

"We're going to need something to eat. Why don't you sniff out something for dinner?"

"Because we're watching the church. We can order in."

"And that'll put the company number on something that it shouldn't be on. Find a drive-through. Pay cash."

Easter's ears were flattening, and he knew that he was pushing buttons that Easter was obviously sensitive on. The confrontation in the car had proved that much. At the same time, he wasn't going to just back down from the rabbit because he was aggressive. Not after everything else that was going on.

"I'll watch the cathedral. You -"

"You know I'm not a rookie, Dowsley."

"Compared to me, you are."

"Yeah?"

Easter finally turned around, narrowing his eyes.

"How many monsters have you dealt with lately? Huh? How many did you have to take down solo?"

"I don't know. How many times did you end up getting your partner killed?"

The rabbit jumped to his feet, and so did Dowsley.

"Twice," Dowsley said, holding his finger under the rabbit's nose. "Two times your partner died. I don't even know how many more were sent to the hospital, but even one is too many. You're dangerous, Easter, too dangerous. And I'm keeping you on a short leash until we can figure out why."

"The way you're staring, I just fucking bet you want me on a leash. Fine. I'll get you a fucking kid's meal, if that's how it's going to be."

The rabbit stormed to the door, pulling his jacket back on as he did. Dowsley called after him.

"Easter!"

All he got in response was a middle finger tossed over the rabbit's shoulder before the door slammed. The border collie realized he'd stretched his arm out towards the door, almost like he was going to try and pull the rabbit back, and dropped it back to his side as he sat on the edge of the bed.

Well, that was dumb.

The border collie took a deep breath as he leaned back on the bed, his own jacket flaring out around him. He undid the buttons on the front, pulling it off and throwing it to the side. It wasn't comfortable for resting in, and not least for all the additions that were spread through the clothes. Runes stitched into the insides of the sleeves, cufflinks that were engraved with different holy symbols, weighted silver stitches in the wrists to make garottes out of: their attire was built for allow for many different responses, but not for comfort.

He put it over by the pillows, grumbling to himself as he rested his hands under his head. Bringing up Easter's partners was probably the worst thing that he could have done, considering the tension already between them, and treating Easter like a rank rookie - which he admittedly wasn't - was not right, either. For all that Easter was dangerous, something that Dowsley would stand by, it was hard to say just why, and it wasn't right to put the blame on the rabbit for the deaths of his partners.

He's angry, but he's not stupid, the border collie thought to himself. And he's rough, but not inconsiderate. He has a lot of angry bits, but none of them are pushing him to go further than he should.

That had been one accusation from HR when he had been put on the short list for a new partner, that he would have to teach Easter to stop making stupid mistakes that were getting his partners into the hospital at best, into the morgue at worst. Dowsley had taken that onboard, and had even gone to the hospital to interview some of the men that had been injured. They'd suggested that Easter was stupid, reckless, pushing himself too far and making them come in after him to save his ass, but so far, he hadn't seen any of that behavior. If anything, Easter seemed more willing to let the SA hold back if needed, taking the brunt of the problem on himself.

And then...there was the other thing.

There was no getting around the fact that Easter had a number of harassment suits filed against other members of the agency, nor any way of getting around the fact that he had been more than a little violent in handling those complaints himself. Easter got very angry when anyone started paying attention to his ass, or treating him like a sexual partner. As removed as Dowsley was from the usual office gossip, that had managed to reach his ears.

Not that he's got to do much to show it off...

Rolling his eyes, Dowsley slapped his hand over his face. In moments like these, he could almost imagine that the other rumors about Easter were true, that he flaunted himself and pushed people, teased them and then left them. There was something about that rabbit that had wiggled its way into his head and it just wouldn't get out. That ass, that muscular body, the way that it would feel to have Easter under him rather than just beside him...

He was a mentor, a teacher, a leader. He wasn't supposed to be getting horned up at the idea of having someone that he was supposed to be guiding and mentoring under him, but it was hard for him to think of anything else. Just the idea of keeping Easter on a real leash rather than a metaphorical one had the dog's dick throbbing hard in between his legs.

Pulling his hand off his head, he looked down at his boner, glaring at it through his pants.

"You do not get to be in charge."

His cock throbbed at him defiantly.

"No."

His cock twitched again, throbbing as the image of Easter sitting on his lap filled his mind. Dowsley grumbled, flopping his head down against the pillows.

"Fine. Just once, though."

Undoing the button before pulling his zipper down, the border collie rubbed his cock through his underwear, just massaging it gently before groping himself. The thought of Easter there, of the black-furred rabbit not just wearing a leash and collar, but actually offering him the leash, made the already-firm bulge get that much harder, the tip pushing up towards the waistband of his underwear.

Glancing out the window to make sure that nothing was happening at the church, he lowered himself a bit further on the bed, pulling his underwear down and letting his cock fill his hand. It was hard, stiff, and more than slightly damp at the head, a bit of pre-cum flowing already at the thought of pulling that leash, of feeling his cock sliding between those firm rabbit butt cheeks.

Mmmph...

Dowsley's cheeks burned as he imagined pulling that leash to set the pace, pulling the grunting, growling, blustery Easter back against him. One thrust, two, three, hammering against those ass cheeks until that bunny started moaning like the slut he probably was inside. Feeling all that anger and aggression fading away, turning into something more mewling and eager, more whimpery and sluttier.

He growled deep in his throat at the imaginings, knowing that he was pushing his luck, knowing that this was wrong. An SA looked out for his NA, and an NA did the same for their SA. They didn't have this sort of relationship, ever.

Yet, here he was, grunting and panting as he humped his hand, imagining that he was humping Easter's ass, instead. He groaned under his breath, his cheeks turning red, his cock throbbing in his hand as he pumped it hard, grunting with every little bit of pleasure that followed that first burst.

In his mind's eye, he couldn't stop seeing Easter, seeing his muscled rump against his crotch, seeing the tail flicking back and forth as they slammed together, seeing that leash tightening every time that he pulled his partner back. He could feel his need rising, the urge to cum getting stronger and stronger, right until -

Fuck me, Dowsley. Fuck me if you want me to learn my lesson.

And he came. He came hard, spurting all over his fingers, shooting his load over his stomach, and only barely avoiding staining his shirt by grabbing it with his free hand and yanking it up. His cock spasmed and twitched in his grip, and he groaned as he felt it twitching, shaking, squirting, blasting his stomach again and again and again.

He laid there afterward, gasping for breath, his eyes rolling back in their sockets as he groaned under his breath. His fur was wet, hot, soaked with pre-cum and cum alike, but his head was finally clear again. Dowsley grumbled to himself, sitting up.

Well...that's lovely...

Pulling his shirt off, the border collie walked to the bathroom and scrubbed at his belly and lower chest with a towel, using as much soap as he dared to try and get the stink of sex off of him. If he was still like this when his partner got back, Easter would smell it in seconds, and that would only make matters worse.

Starting to see why he gets so annoyed, he thought. He's a good agent, if angry, and if that's all that people see...

Shaking his head, he got rid of the worst of it and used some of the bathroom deodorant to mask the rest. He shook his head, walking out of the bathroom as he heard a loud, sustained car horn going off.

"The hell?"

He grabbed his shirt as he jogged to the window, looking across the street. At street level by the church was their car, and it was definitely the one blaring its horn for all to hear. Dowsley arched an eyebrow as he buttoned his shirt, but when he saw a bunch of gang members running off, he gathered what had happened.

The cathedral door opened, and a priest stepped out, a big one that had his smock half-undone, who was shouting and raising his fist at the departing gang members. Most unpriestly, if he did say so himself.

Glancing at the wall, he saw that the gang members might have been scared off, but not before they had started spray-painting the wall again. Some half-finished tag had been scrawled onto the clean stone, but he couldn't quite see what it said from here.

Perhaps he should go over there before Easter got too deep into conversation...

#

Dowsley didn't take long to get there, perhaps two minutes. It helped not waiting for the elevator, and despite his experience and his age, it didn't take him that long to get down the stairs. Particularly when he was able to ride the railing.

He approached his partner and the priest, nodding at them. Easter looked up and took an obvious half-second to bury his own annoyance, but he did professionally enough. The rabbit flicked his suit jacket, gesturing at him.

"Sir, if I might introduce a friend of mine? This is Chase, Chase Dowsley."

Friends. He caught the note and went with it, shifting his walk slightly from the agent gait to the more steady, confident swagger of a businessman that was used to getting his way. Business friends from out of town that were for a convention, or something along those lines. By the time that he stood in the grounds of the cathedral, he had completely shifted the way that he was behaving.

"Sorry about that; just saw some of the chaos from the hotel," Dowsley explained. "What happened?"

"Some thugs were spray-painting the church, tagging it with something. I honked at them to warn them off, and then this big guy -" He paused, gesturing with his thumb at the St. Bernard, who topped them both by at least half a foot. "He came running out, and then started running off as fast as their feet could carry them."

"Well, I did give them a good thrashing before," the priest said, rubbing his knuckles. "Not that I want to again, you understand, but...sometimes, it seems to be the only thing they'll listen to."

"Why not go for the police?" Dowsley asked.

"With them? They'll be more likely to get shot than stopped; I want them to leave us alone, not get thrown in a jail cell, or a hospital bed."

"Commendable," the border collie said, tucking his hands into his pockets. "What were they here for, anyway? And what does that -"

He blinked as he finally noticed the tag, arching an eyebrow at it. In bright red paint, it said 'Killer Priest', though the circle that was supposed to go around it hadn't been completed, nor had the other half-written words been written to completion. Regardless, it was rather offensive to look at, and his ears flattened against the top of his head.

"That seems...excessive," Dowsley said.

"I'm not a killer," the St. Bernard said. "I might have been a bit rough chasing them off - I was a boxer before I became a priest - but I didn't kill any of 'em. Maybe a broken nose on one of 'em, but that's it."

"Hey, we're on your side, Shane." Easter shook his head. "But we could use a little more information here; this is pretty messed up, you know?"

"Yes...yes, it is."

Tucking the dog's name away for future reference, Dowsley took the second-fiddle role without complaint. He could tell that Easter had already gathered some rapport with the priest, and it would be better if he didn't interfere with that. Next time, however, he'd make an effort to be on the scene a bit sooner.

Easter does have a way of getting himself involved in these things before I can catch up, though...

As the St. Bernard started explaining the situation, Dowsley tilted his head back slightly. The feeling of vague synesthesia that he had felt from the tracking before was still there, burning pain and bloody heat at the same time. It was stronger here than it had been, but there was something else, almost like...like magic.

No, definitely magic, he realized, and more than just the magic of a shifter. Now that he had identified it, he realized that it was spread throughout the area, though it was strongest here at the cathedral, almost like there was a coating of it in the air and through the ground. He resisted the urge to gag, but only just as he could almost taste the slime of bad memories all around him.

Focus. This is evidence.

Shane explained that the first time that he'd encountered the gang, he'd been coming out after they'd done a bit of tagging. Their groundskeeper - a little squirrel named Samuel - had been tending to the plants along the outside of the church when the thugs had come by. After hearing what was going on, Shane had come running out to see what was happening, and had chased off the attackers. They'd promised to be back, but...well...

"I heard the news about the boys that got killed," Shane admitted. "I don't know if it was them, but the gang's treating me like it was." The St. Bernard sighed. "I don't know what happened to them, but the life of the streets is cruel. I hope, whatever happened, that it was quick."

Click. The door to the cathedral opened slightly, and a squirrel poked his head out. Dowsley recognized the blue coat that he was wearing as the same one that he'd seen the cleaner on the ladder wearing before, and no sooner had the little guy poked his head around the corner than he saw the graffiti.

"What the - when did that - oh those ASSHOLES!"

"Language, Samuel, language," Shane said.

"But that - oh my god, that's wrong! You're not a killer! You saved me. You're good!"

"Samuel, I think that you should go back inside. You're not well yet."

And he certainly wasn't. Dowsley could see the cuts and scrapes under the squirrel's gray fur, could see the bandages just barely hidden under the coat. Whatever beating that the little guy had gotten, it had been a bad one.

Yet, the squirrel shook his head.

"No way. That's getting cleaned, and NOW."

"Samuel -"

"No! I'm not letting them win. That's getting cleaned now before anyone gets the wrong idea. Thinking that you...mmmph!"

The squirrel humphed, going back into the cathedral, doubtlessly to gather his equipment. The border collie arched an eyebrow, glancing back at the priest with a slight smile on the edge of his muzzle.

"A bit out there, isn't he?"

"Well, he deserves to be. He was very innocent before they beat him."

"I'm sorry," Dowsley said, shaking his head. "I'm sure that he'll recover, eventually. Um, a question, if I may?"

"Go ahead. I'd love to talk about something besides this."

"How long has this cathedral been here? It looks much older than the rest of the buildings."

Easter flicked him a confused look, an arched eyebrow, but Dowsley gestured with one hand just out of sight, signing for the rabbit to wait. The dog nodded.

"That's because it is. It's been remodeled, of course, several times, but the original building dates back from the 1600s. There's even a few glass windows that dated back to that time, though...one less, now."

"The one that they broke?" Easter asked.

"Yes. Samuel took that particularly hard; I sometimes think that he reveres this building more than I do."

The 1600s. That explained a few things for the border collie, that was for sure. He nodded to himself.

"Thank you. I've a bit of historical interest, and I seldom get the chance to see something so old."

"Well, if you'd like to see the inside, you're free to come back tomorrow. It's the least I can do for helping keep this place intact."

"We might just do that," Dowsley said, nodding to the hotel over his shoulder. "We're staying there overnight, and will be heading out after the weekend, so we should have time, if you're serious."

"Quite. Thank you, again."

"Thank my friend here," the border collie said, nodding to the rabbit. "He did the work. I just wanted to see what was going on."

"Thank you, then, good sir," Shane said, nodding his head at the flabbergasted rabbit.

"So, dinner?" Dowsley asked.

They had Chinese for dinner, the meat and noodles and rice barely better for them than the mess that they could have gotten from a fast-food place, but at least they could pretend that it was a little less greasy than the burgers and fries that they might have had otherwise. That, and it was a bit more filling with all the rice. They'd be good until morning, possibly all the way until afternoon.

Easter was eating faster, obviously wanting to get done with this before they could talk, but Dowsley had other plans. He had a few bites of food, then sighed.

"I'm sorry."

The black rabbit blinked, pausing in his rapid munching to look up with one ear up and the other down. Dowsley shook his head.

"No, I'm serious. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought up your previous partners like that."

"No. You shouldn't have."

"However." Dowsley pointed his chopsticks at Easter, shaking his head. "I think we both know that something's going on with anyone that gets involved with you. Management sees it, I see it. There's no way that you don't see it."

"..."

"Someone's going to talk to you about it, sometime, Easter. If you're lucky, it's going to be your partner. If not, it's probably going to be HR when they're trying to find a way to drum you out without getting in trouble."

"...It's not my fault."

"I'm seeing that, now." The border collie shook his head. "I saw the files. The most they said was that it was possible - possible - that you were too reckless and that they lost their lives as a result. The injury reports often say the same - don't look at me that way." Dowsley shook his head as Easter glared at him. "I didn't say that they were right, I just said that they said it.

"And the more time that I spend with you, the less that I think that they were right. You have initiative, yes, and you are more headstrong than most agents...but that doesn't mean that you're reckless. I've been expecting you to be, and that's made me...tougher. Tougher than I should be in how I treat you."

The black rabbit poked at his food for a moment, then set it aside. He leaned forward, tapping his hands together, fingertips drumming off of one another.

"...I don't need a babysitter."

"I'm starting to agree, but -"

"I know you're not that...not exactly. Not when you're being you. But when you're being who they want you to be..."

There was no need to talk about 'they' between them. The higher up you went in the SBI, the less normal things became. Some thought that was because they were more in touch with the supernatural at the higher ranks, or perhaps there was something else out there that had started the SBI in the first place, something where they had an unholy deal that transformed them. Nobody really knew, but so far, everything had been as benevolent as possible to the people that were fighting the supernatural, so there were less questions than one would expect.

Regardless, they both moved on, and Dowsley leaned back as Easter continued.

"I know something's wrong. It's not my fault - it's never my fault - but something bad always happens. I've checked with the curse-masters, gone through the SA tests six times, done everything I can to see if there's something different, but it always comes back negative. There's nothing there. And it...it keeps happening."

"Then there's something there."

"...What do you mean?" Easter asked, looking up.

"I mean that if there's something that keeps happening, and it's not your fault, and it is always the same thing, no matter how you try and stop it, then there's something there," Dowsley said, shrugging. "Just because they're not picking it up doesn't mean that there's not something around. It just means that they might not be good enough to find it. Or that it's something that they don't know how to look for. It doesn't mean that you're crazy. It just means that we haven't found what we're looking for just yet."

"Heh. You saying that I could be the Supernatural Agent of Bad Luck?"

"Or just that you drain luck from those around you," Dowsley said with a shrug. "At any rate, if it's magical, I want to take a shot at finding out. Once we're out of here, away from all the mess from the church, I'll be able to check."

"What do you mean?"

"The 1600s were a messy time for anything magical. There were witch burnings - mostly classism, true, but there were some real ones, too - but more than that, there were mages that were getting killed left and right by their rivals, always looking for a chance to get more power. This place is saturated in magic; I can barely keep track of what I'm supposed to be looking for, let alone anything else."

Easter winced. "So, any chance of finding out whether Shane was a shifter or not -"

"Not while he's around the church, unfortunately."

"Damn."

"Everything has limitations."

"First SA to say that..."

"Well, I'm experienced enough to have learned it." Dowsley sighed, putting his food box on his lap. "Look. It's late. Why don't you get some sleep? I'll take first watch on the church, and we'll figure out how we want to handle the rest of this tomorrow."

"You sure?"

"I've made you do everything else. I might as well take this one."

"...Thanks."

Dowsley nodded, though he was only barely able to hide his blush as his partner stripped off his shirt and pants. The rabbit, dressed only in a pair of briefs, flopped out on one of the beds and pulled a pillow under his head. In short order, Easter was out cold, snoring louder than a sawmill.

He shook his head, turning to look back out the window. Much as he hated to admit it, he was glad to have an NA with him on this ride. Normally, his ability let him sense anything supernatural in the area, even track it without having to focus that hard, but with that church and its strange aura, he was all but blind. Dowsley didn't like that feeling, didn't like that sense of helplessness in the slightest, but he wasn't going to show it in front of Easter. The rabbit was already pushing things, and he couldn't afford to give another inch when he'd already given several.

Glancing out the window, he saw the lights in the church go out, but saw a small one on the ground, pointing up at the spray-paint. Samuel was still hard at work, it seemed, doing his best to get the paint off of the church. Devoted little guy, if a bit out there.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair for the first watch. Glancing at Easter's nearly-bare butt a few times, Dowsley ignored the throbbing it gave him down below, and focused entirely on looking out the window.

...Mostly entirely. That butt was too good to ignore all the time.

The End