"With the usual equipment for this kind of thing?"

  "Yeah, far as I know. What's it to you?"

  I took in a deliberate breath and let it out, cursing myself for getting involved in other people's problems, especially when the one with the real problem didn't even qualify as people.

  "Once the SFD gets here, I'll have a word with them," I said. "Then I'd like to go up there and see if I can talk to him."

  "You know the guy – or the fey, or whatever the fuck you call them?"

  "I don't think so, but it doesn't matter. I've had some experience with fairies. Look, if you want me to butt out, I will. But I think I can get him down from there alive."

  Noonan looked over my shoulder. "Fire truck's here." He returned his gaze to my face. "What the fuck, Markowski. You know these damn fairies better than I do – which in my case, is not at all. You think you can get the flitty bastard down, then go for it."

  I nodded. "Let me talk to whoever's commanding the truck, then I'll go on up."

About ten minutes later, I was leaning half out the twelfthfloor window that was closest to the suicidal fairy. The people in the law firm that owned the window weren't too happy about it, but I waved my badge at them and they'd let me though. I wondered if the jumper was one of their clients, who'd just got a look at his bill for legal services.

  Speaking loudly enough to be heard on the ledge, I said to the fairy, "Hey, how ya doing?"

  He didn't start when I spoke to him, fortunately – he'd probably heard me opening the window. He turned his head slightly in my direction and I could see that his eyes were shut tight – good.

  "If you have to ask that question of me in the present circumstances, then you are too stupid to comprehend any answer that I might give."

  I'd just been told to "fuck off" in Fairy. Yeah, they talk like that – most of them. I learned a new word from Reader's Digest a couple of months ago that I'd immediately thought applied perfectly to fairies – supercilious. This specimen of the fair folk was no exception.

  "Just a figure of speech," I said. "I am well aware of your predicament."

  "Oh, are you?" Yup – supercilious is the word, all right.

  "Well, the part that is visible to the eye," I said. "I'm sure there must be other matters I don't know about that have driven you to this… extreme situation."

  Now he had me talking that way – jeez.

  "Other matters, indeed. And I warn you – do not try to force me, or persuade me, off my current perch. I am not going back inside. For me, the only way out is down, and I shall take it as soon as I can gather my courage sufficiently."

  "Of course – I respect that. My name's Stan, by the way."

  He sighed dramatically, then said something in Fairy, followed by, "The closest name to mine in your language is… Butch."

  Butch. I felt the smile forming on my lips, but beat it back with an effort of will. He might open his eyes and see me.

  "Uh, Butch, I couldn't help but notice that your wings have been, um…"

  "Amputated. Removed. Hacked off. Is that what you are trying to say?"

  "Something like that. If you don't mind me asking, does that have something to do with your present… predicament?"

  "It has everything to do with it," he moaned.

  "I see," I said. "Or rather, I don't…"

  "The matter is none of your concern, human. Go away and leave me in peace. I will seek true, lasting peace soon enough."

  "Don't you want the other fey to know why you did it? Wouldn't you rather give your last act some meaning, so that others will understand what drove you to this?"

  He was quiet for several seconds before answering me.

  "I loved – love – a female of my kind who is a member of Queen Mab's court. Though I am but a common fey, she returned my love. She gave me the gift of her body – not once, but many times. We thought no one would ever find out." The way he said that last part was bitter enough to curdle milk.

  "I take it someone did find out."

  "Oh, yes – one of noble blood who also desired her but had been spurned – spurned for me. He wasted no time in bringing my crime to the attention of the Queen."

  "Messing around with a member of the Court is illegal, huh?"

  "It is considered an insult to the Queen herself – which makes it the most heinous of all crimes. My punishment – well, that you see before you."

  "Forgive a dumb question, but your wings will grow back, won't they?"

  "Yes, in a year – perhaps two. But the shame is eternal – that, and the loss forever of the one I love."

  Sounded like fairies were as fucked up as humans – just with fancier vocabulary.

  Now comes the hard part.

  My back to the window, I went ahead and put my butt on the sill and slowly pivoted my legs, until my feet were on the ledge. Then I carefully eased my head and shoulders through. That done, I gripped the window frame tight with one hand and slowly raised up to a standing position, my knees screaming the whole time. But finally I'd done it – I was standing on the ledge, maybe ten feet from the fucking fairy drama queen who had caused all this.

  As happens every time I'm in the process of doing something stupid, I started hearing from my gut.

  Uh-uh, Stan. Bad idea. You know how far up we are? Get us the fuck out of here before it's too late!

  Then my brain decided to join the conversation.

  Shaddup.

  Now for the real hard part.

  Two feet wide, that ledge was – give or take an inch. People say "Everything's relative," and that sure is true. Two feet would be pretty impressive if it was, say, the length of my dick. But right now that ledge I was on seemed about as slim as my chances for sainthood.

  The fey opened his eyes for a second, saw what I was doing, then clenched them shut again.