Will you Walk into my Parlour?

It was cold in Mike Crew’s apartment, something Jon was infinitely grateful for. The lift had been out of order and the stairs had seemed to go on forever. Jon felt gross and sweaty and his knee ached. Gods, he was far too young to have his joints act up like that, nevermind the greying hair. After that trek, the breeze was a welcome distraction.

In Jon’s bag, a tape recorder clicked on.

“You sure I can’t get you a cup of tea?” Mike pressed. He had an odd sort of look on his face and Jon decided he didn’t like it.

“Uh, it-it’s fine really.”

“Okay. You just seem a bit… jumpy is all.”

There was a wall of windows in Mike’s apartment, opposite the door. Jon made the mistake of looking and his stomach lurched.

“Oh, I just er. Coming in I thought…” Jon could swear the building wasn’t this tall when he first looked at it. It certainly wasn’t tall enough that the windows only showed sky, bright blue that went on and on and nothing else, not even a cloud. “It's fine.”

It wasn’t fine. It was far, far from fine. He hadn’t told Martin- although he was still mad at him. But he could have at least told Tim. He shouldn’t have come alone, not after what happened with Jude. At least he wasn’t entirely stupid, he still had his phone and he could call someone if something went wrong.

Jon reached for his phone. He'd send a quick text, let Tim know he was alive and not to worry and if Martin showed up knocking could he please- Oh. Seems he had forgotten his phone after all. Shit.

“Grand,” Mike said in such a pleasant voice that it made Jon want to grind his teeth. He didn’t try to be rude, he really didn’t, but small talk had a way of wearing on his patience. “Er, okay. What can I do for you?”

“Er… You’re… you’re Michael Crew, right?”

“It’s Mike please.”

“Right.” He felt off balance, like the world was tipping somehow and he couldn't tell down from up. “I’m from the Magnus Institute.”

“Oh, you, uh, yeah, you said.”

“I, er… I read…” Jon hated this. He wished they could just skip all this bit and move on to the statement already. He wanted, no, he needed to know . “You feature in some of our statements.”

“Oh. Statements of what?”

“You… There was, there was a book? Er, two of them, at least. Er… Ex Altiora, The Boneturner’s Tale.” Jon swallowed. He tugged at the webbing overtop his fingertips. It wouldn’t come off, he knew that, but he couldn’t help the repetitive motion. “You, uh, I think you threw a guy off a skyscraper in Paris.”

Mike’s face was set in an odd way, and Jon was certain the room was colder than it had been a moment before. Maybe this was one of those moments where Jon was expected to understand something everyone else seemed to, but his brain refused to let him.

“Hmm. Last chance for that cup of tea.”

Jon had always had a difficult time reading tone. He took words at face value, and found it incredibly frustrating when people expected him to just know what they meant. Why couldn’t they just say? It was infinitely easier that way, in Jon’s opinion.

“No thanks. I only like it when Martin makes it.” Jon picked at the webbing near his wrist. He really shouldn’t have said that. He was still mad at Martin. “Where did you get that- Ah!”

Jon yelped. Something had bit him and it… a spider scurried away from him and  across the kitchen table. Mike brought his mug down, smashing the spider and splashing tea all across the wood in the process.

Mike was staring at him- not in the way he was used to, that ghost of pressure at the small of his back. No, the expression on Mike’s face was something like, like…

“Get. Out.”

...

Tim rushed past Melanie. She pulled the phone away from her ear long enough to grin. “Good fucking riddance.”

Tim paused. “I wasn’t fired.”

“Oh fuck you,” she spat at him. Melanie pressed the phone back to her ear. “I’m gonna kill him.”

Georgie sighed over the phone “Melanie-”

“Joking! Joking.”

“Good.”

Melanie kicked at one of the loose floorboards. It chipped away, revealing a pile of grey worm carcasses. Gross. “... mostly joking.”

“Melanie!”

“Can you blame me?”

“Not really, no.” Georgie cursed under her breath. There was a screeching sound and ringing static. “I swear to- if this damn thing won’t just record- Right sorry. He does sound like an arse. I guess I can condone a little bit of murder.”

“Only a little?”

Georgie laughed. “Just a pinch. Hey, you're good at editing right?”

“Yeah?”

“Think you can help me out a bit? I can pay you.”

Melanie stiffened. “You really don’t have to do that.”

“Melanie, you're living out of a motel right now.”

“Because my roommate kicked me out after the whole, well, you know. Not because I’m hard on cash. 

“Yeah with barely any pay and coworkers you hate-”

“A warning Melanie! The bastard doesn’t even bother to show up to work most days and Bouchard lets him off with a warning?” Melanie pinched her nose. “Not the point. Look, you’re the only one in our circle who still talks to me since… that .”

“Since you became a meme?”

“Yeah. That. Look, we’re friends. This is what friends do.”

“Alright.” Georgie’s voice was soft. “Let me buy you dinner then. It might take a while to fix. This one refuses to record.”

“Oh-” Melanie’s face went red. That was- she didn’t mean- “Okay.”

…

Jon stared. He pulled at the web on his skin. It didn’t hurt, it just felt wrong and he wanted it off of him. “I… what?”

Mike grit his teeth, and that Jon could interpret. He was angry. He’d probably been angry this whole time and Jon just hadn’t realized- why did that keep happening? What did Jon do wrong this time? “You should leave.”

“But I just got-”

A sudden gust of wind pushed Jon all the way out of the apartment, slamming the door in his face.

Jon glared at the door. Well. That was rather rude. He came here for answers though, and he was going to get them. He could hear the other man, pacing on the other side of the door. 

Static filled the air. If Mike wouldn’t tell him, well then he’d just take it.

“JON!”

Jon spun around. There was Tim, just a few feet away.

“Oh thank god,” Tim said “You haven’t gone in yet.”

“Oh I did. He kicked me out though. I think I made him angry, but I can’t figure out why.”

Tim looked quickly from Jon to the door and then back. “You-”

“How did you get here so fast? There were so many stairs. It seemed to go on forever.”

Tim frowned. “We’re only on the second floor- not important. You went inside? Alone?”

“I had to-”

“You know what? Doesn’t matter. We’re leaving.”

“We can’t just leave . Don’t you want to know?”

There was a loud thud before Tim could answer, and the door to Mike's apartment swung wide open. A shoe thudded to the ground beside them.

“Oh great,” Mike said. “Now there’s two. Did I at least get the spider?”

…

Melanie pulled the computer onto her lap. Dinner was nice. It was very nice. The couch was small and Georgie’s thigh was touching her thigh. That was nice too. Georgie reached over Melanie’s shoulder to pull up the files.

She pressed play. A loud screeching static filled the air. Melanie scrambled for the pause.

“Oh.”

“Yeah…” Georgie settled in even closer. Was it hot in here? “It’s not pretty.”

Melanie scratched the back of her head. “No it’s not that. It just sounds like the statements at the institute, the ones that refuse to record. And you and I both know…”

“The supernatural messes with technology. Exactly.”

“So this is real then?” Melanie grinned. “Cool.”

“It's not going to be cool if I can’t release it. I’ve had to record this so many times, Melanie. So many!”

“Hmm.” Melanie settled back into the couch. “We record the fussy ones on tape recorders, you know the real old fashioned kind. Martin likes them, calls them ‘retro’.”

“Ah yes, your only tolerable coworker.”

“Tolerable sure, I did a bit of digging though and he’s been legally dead for like, months.”

“ Spooky, ” Georgie laughed. She had a very good laugh. “You think he’s a ghost? Maybe I could interview him, get him on the podcast.”

Melanie chuckled. “Wouldn’t be very interesting. Tim though? Now that could be a good story.”

“He’s not a ghost, Melanie.”

“But he could be,” Melanie gestured wildly in the air. “He could and you know it.”

“Not a ghost.”

“I’m right and you know it.”

“Yeah, and I’m the Dali Lama. Besides, ghosts can’t even become tangible. The most they can do is move objects in their surrounding environments.”

“Tell that to the one that shot me.” Melanie raised her eyebrows, a smug smile on her face.

Georgie’s eyes glittered. “You got shot by a- Okay you have to tell me everything.” She reached for her computer, and began setting up a microphone.

“No.”

Georgie didn’t even pause setting up. “Oh?”

“Georgie, no.”

“Georgie, yes .”

…

Mike did not get the spider. It scuttled away and out the door to do whatever it was that spiders do.

Mike glared at them. “Tea?”

“But you just kicked me out of-”

Tim’s hand landed on Jon’s shoulder. “Sure.”

Mike led them into the kitchen, roughly pulling out chairs. They screeched against the tile and Jon cringed. While Mike went to set the kettle, Jon turned to Tim with a questioning glance.

Tim sighed. “Are you hungry?”

“What?”

“You are. Fine. One statement and then we leave.”

There were cobwebs on the table. There were cobwebs all over Mike’s apartment, and Jon was certain they hadn’t been there before.

Two glasses of tea landed roughly in front of them. It splashed onto the surface of the table.

“Ask your questions. Fine. Then leave .”

“But you just kicked me out of your apartment?”

Mike looked up, at the cobwebs on the ceiling and in the corners. “I changed my mind.”

“Ah, okay.” Jon frowned. “But why?”

Mike laughed. “You’re the Spider’s little pet aren’t you? I saw what happened to Jude.”

“I’m not his- what happened to Jude?”

“What didn’t? She’s still alive if that’s what you’re asking. Poor wretch.” He sighed. “Point is, you’re untouchable. So ask whatever questions you want then. Get. Out.”

Static filled the air. A tape recorder appeared on the table.

“So, Where did you get that scar?”