It might’ve been Logan’s day off, but he learned a while ago that business owners still had things to do even when they weren’t actually working. In this case, the owner of Thoth’s Library had a phone call to return and a new order to place. That meant camping out on the couch with the television on mute, a sea of papers strewn about on the coffee table in front of him.

The Chicago Tribune had called again wanting an interview for a feature on the store; Logan again declined. He supposed an argument could be made for free publicity; people could read the article and decide to check out the store on their own, but the former Watcher wasn’t comfortable letting the media in – particularly after the fiasco surrounding Avery and the local TV station.

He just knew that would come up again if he let the Tribune weasel its way in.

“Ms. Ravencroft,” Logan spoke once the other line picked up, the black receiver trapped between his left ear and shoulder. “It’s Logan. It’s going great, some books I can’t keep in stock. Which is … kinda why I’m calling. I need another shipment of your Witchcraft and Vampires.

( Off-Day Business )

It was a good thing Logan wasn't a very messy person.

Though he honestly had no idea what to expect when Janine called him back to accept his invitation to a date, Logan couldn't have imagined they'd wind up back at his apartment after the typical dinner-and-movie fare. An admittedly trite date for this point in the 21st century, but it apparently worked. The former Watcher cringed as he unlocked the door to his apartment and it swung open, revealing a stack of folded-up papers and three leather-bound tomes on the coffee table.

At this point, Logan couldn't even remember what he was researching. He crossed the threshold after his date, closing the door behind him before heading straight for the coffee table. Trying to arrange the stack of papers neatly, Logan folded up a few of the less cooperative pieces before placing them inside the front cover of the top book, setting the stack aside to the floor.

"Sorry about the mess," he said sheepishly. "Though I guess ... better books than crumpled-up beer cans."

( I think I'd rather ... (Adult Content: Mild Sexuality) )

(This event took place in the AU World and before the current events)

Outside the large doors of the Great Cathedral of Chicago parishioners walked out after the Sunday Mass. Most were greeted by the clergy as they left. Those of the higher classes had the privilege to speak with the Archbishop of Chicago, the Church of England. One of those so blessed with the opportunity were the Inquisitors. "Your Excellency, I was inspired by your sermon. It was lovely," complimented Kathleen as her white-laced gloved hand held the Archbishop's hand. "Truly inspired."

"Thank you, Mrs. Guevera," said the Archbishop, who then let go of her hand. As a loyal wife, she placed her arm around her husband's, and glanced at him affectionately before smiling back at the Archbishop.

"Indeed," Logan agreed with a smile to his wife, shaking the Archbishop's hand. "Your words will be a great source of strength for our men as we head into battle. The Lord's will shall carry the day for us."

Logan Guevera had served with the Inquisition for the past year and a half, after serving the Church of England in several capacities over the past decade. His father Trevor had instilled in Logan a great love and respect for God, one that Logan was eager to lean on when the Inquisition asked him to lend his sword to eradicating the supernatural menace. Though he nearly passed out from fear with the first vampire he slayed, but as the months passed, Logan's ability grew matched only by his resolve.

( Blessed are the Peacemakers )

Though Logan traditionally had trouble getting up before 10 in the morning, being a business owner helped change his clock somewhat. That wasn’t to say he didn’t still need help in the morning – thank the Gods he had his own coffee machine – but the thought of rising at 6 a.m. wasn’t the nightmare it once was.

Taking a long swig from his thermos once he parked in the garage nears the shopping center that housed Thoth’s Library, Logan locked the door to his green Civic and headed toward the stairs leading to the garage’s exit. A posted hanging on the wall to the right of the stairwell gave the former Watcher pause, though, and he stopped in his tracks to glance at it.

Missing posters weren’t anything new in Chicago, particularly considering the large vampire population. Logan wondered if the recent re-opening of Lincoln Park had anything to do with it – sure, everyone in a position of authority said the mutants were no longer an issue, but was that really the case?

Logan wasn’t so sure.

( A phone call and an email )

Between the close brush at the bar last week and the offer from The New York Post to be their supernatural affairs reporter, Logan had a busy week. He was dreading the call to Grant Norris to turn down the offer, realizing he wouldn't have a good enough reason for doing so in the eyes of the editor. He could just hear Grant now ... You're turning down a return to the lucrative field of journalism for what? Retail?!

Yes. Yes, he was.

It wasn't so much that he loved retail -- though it certainly had its advantages -- but Logan knew he was doing a lot more good running Thoth's Library than he ever would as a reporter for that paper in New York. The Post wasn't nearly the reputable paper the Times was -- for all the former Watcher knew, the Post was some tabloidesque rag that spent all its time and resources tailing Alex Rodriguez and trashing the Yankees if they had the nerve to so much as lose a game.

It was enough to make Logan glad he was a Mets fan.

( I have an idea )

Dear Mr. Guevera,

THE NEW YORK POST is proud to inform you of our interest in your services. We are prepared to offer you a full-time position as supernatural affairs reporter with our paper. We are aware of your previous journalistic experience at The Clark County Beacon, as well as your internship with The New York Times. We are also aware of your expertise in matters supernatural, and we feel you would be a perfect fit for our staff.

Enclosed is all the information you need should you decide to pursue this opportunity. If you have any questions, feel free to contact our news editor, Grant Norris, at the phone number atop this letter.

Thank you for your time and we hope you seriously consider our offer.

( Ramen and Diet Coke Diet )



[NPC Laurel was written by Dew.]

Logan wasn't the sort of person to drown his sorrows in a beer after losing someone important in his life, but for some reason, he saw fit on this night to frequent one of the establishments about a block away from Thoth's Library for a drink. It wasn't so much because he was having a rough day -- though that was certainly part of it -- Logan just couldn't remember the last time he went to a bar without the intent of investigating something out of the ordinary.

Which, side note? When would people realize vampires loved bars? Logan was constantly aware of this, which was why he wore a silver cross around his neck under his olive green button-down ... well, that and the ever-constant spectre of Diego. There was no telling when the vampire would show his face again, though the former Watcher wondered how losing Izzy would change the game.

Knowing Diego, it probably wouldn't.

Still, it helped to be prepared. Logan did his best to drown out the live band "performing" on the stage to his left. The former Watcher didn't mind local music as a general rule, but this band was particularly grating. It wasn't that they lacked talent; Logan just didn't particularly care for the songs they chose to play.

( Rough Band )



[NPC Sandra was written by Jessica.]

Pearl pressed against the cold stone of the building into the shadows as she watched the light-haired pale man walk towards the store. "Thoth's Library" looked innocent enough. Was it a vampire hangout? Who was this guy? He looked a lot like Allen. Had she found him finally? She could hardly keep herself from yelling to the man. He went in the front doors, Pearl quickly darting after him, peering sideways into the building then glancing briefly at her outfit in disgust. Blue jeans and a sunshine-yellow tank top were not good for following people. Pearl took a deep breath, then walked quietly into the store.

Having given Avery the night off, Logan found himself sitting behind the counter without much to do. It had seemed like a good idea at the time; pull a double shift at the store to keep from thinking much about his break-up with Izzy. Then again, that plan would've only worked had there been more than five customers all day, or if a shipment of inventory had been delivered. Alas, it was one of those slow days that left the former Watcher with nothing but time. Time led to thinking, which was not where Logan wanted to be in the days following the break-up.

Logan wasn't emotionally paralyzed by what happened, and he was certainly still able to sleep, eat, practice basic hygiene and go to work, but to say he was handling the whole thing with a stiff upper lip and a positive attitude would've been overstating things. It still hurt, and Logan could still see reminders of his ex everywhere he looked. Then again, she was with him when the store opened, and one of the back rooms was her workshop, so that stood to reason.

Boy, things had the potential to get awkward.

( Pyro-ki-something-or-other )

For a change, winter had loosened its grip on Chicago in its final weeks; hints of spring were in the air and Izzy left the heavy jacket that had been her constant companion for months behind in her closet in favor of a light sweater to ward off what chill there was. The tech-witch almost didn't want to go inside as she reached Logan's apartment building, but the desire to see her boyfriend won out over the warm breeze and before long she was knocking on his door.

It had taken a nearly Herculean effort to clean up the apartment and return it to normal, but Logan knew that was because of the sheer volume of the "message" left for him. Logan had kept every last photograph and piece of deranged memorabilia, stuffing them all in cardboard boxes in the far corner of the living room. It wasn't so much the sentimentality of it all, but the former Watcher was treating it all as evidence. There could be clues as to Diego's plans and whereabouts, and the sooner that vampire was found, the sooner someone could finally dust his ass once and for all.

If that leech ever touched Izzy, Logan would have to do it himself. Yeah ... nice wish.

The knock on his door coincided with the timer going off to signal the pasta was ready. Tonight's menu was a soft fettuccine dish, coupled with a small cut of sirloin, cooked medium well and a caesar salad. Not the most extravagant thing in the world, but Logan knew to stick with what he knew when it came to the culinary arts; experimenting would probably not end well for anyone.

( It Won't Break Me )

To: "Connor", "Hayden", "Izzy", "Juliet", "Kris", "Logan", "Purity", "Whistler", "Will"
Cc: "Joseph"
From: R.I.Lee@gmail.com
Subj: Faith

We've got a massive problem. According to the news, Faith's been arrested for that string of murders in Chicago (humans staked through the chest). Who knows a good lawyer? Or a good anything that's a workable plan?

Hayden, please forward this to your Council contacts. I know Faith's still on the payroll. Maybe they can throw some resources this way.

-R

To: "Rhiannon", "Kris", "Connor", "William", "Hayden", "Purity", "Izzy", "Faith", "Juliet"
From: "Logan"
Subject: Lincoln Park findings
Attach: LP1.jpg, LP2. jpg, LP3.jpg, LP4.jpg, LP5.jpg, LP6.jpg, LP7.jpg, LP_talk.mp3

Everyone,

Attached are several photographs I took the other night from the freight tunnel access point at Halsted and Diversey. For the most part, things have remained unchanged since my last visit back in August or September, but a few photos show something I couldn't quite make out lying on the tracks a bit away. Couldn't figure out what it was, and it disappeared suddenly, but it's something.

Also have an mp3 of a conversation I overheard between a scientist and one of the guards near the barricade. A little of it was hard to gather, but it's still worth a listen.

Be safe, everyone.

-Logan

Business had started to pick up once again, which was both good and bad. Good in the sense that things seemed to be returning to normal at Thoth's Library; from what Logan could tell, the protests only managed to keep people away for so long. Once the commotion died down and everyone realized Avery wasn't in fact a vampire (though he actually was -- Logan made a note to ask him about those papers he'd mentioned on the news that night), it seemed customers were in a forgiving mood.

Still, the recent influx of consumers made it hard to keep the shelves properly stocked. Not only that, but Logan was just now getting around to uploading the photos he'd taken two nights prior of the Lincoln Park barricade and the access tunnel. He'd send them to Rhiannon, William and the others, and he even decided to convert the conversation he recorded between the soldier and the scientist into an mp3 and send that off as well. The conversation was vague, and Logan still couldn't make out the part he'd missed that night, but it never hurt to offer all the evidence he had.

Who knew? Someone might catch something he missed. He was of surprisingly clear mind, given recent events, but Logan knew another set of eyes and ears never hurt.

Jumping a little when the phone rang, Logan picked up on the third ring. "Thoth's Library, Logan speaking," he introduced. "I'm sorry, we actually sold the last copy this morning. I've already placed another order with the publisher; should be in next week." He reached to his right, grabbing a pen and pad of paper.

"I can reserve a copy for you, if you'd like. Name, please?"

( Shopping for one thing, leaving with another. )

Handing the photo back to Lorne, he offered a sad smile. "I'm sorry," he said again. "It's obvious how important she is to you. If there's anything else I can do ..."

"You can sell me these things and make me a nametag," Lorne replied with a grin, holding out the few things in his hands toward his new boss. In his hands were possibly more answers to his questions, or perhaps they were nothing but boring old tomes which told him everything he already knew. But either way, it was something new to read.

And speaking of new -- a job and a place where Lorne could use his gift to help people. It would be, of course, on a much smaller scale and a far more relaxed environment, but that's all that Lorne could deal with at this point. His main focus was Meredith, but eventually his money would run out.

"So when do I start, boss?"

Well, the wall was still up. That much was good to know.

Though by no means a skilled photographer, Logan had long ago learned the value of taking pictures when examining something. Which was why he was camped on a rooftop near the Lincoln Park barricade – the same rooftop he was on the night he met Izzy, come to think of it – holding a Nikon that most would’ve considered overpriced.

The zoom lens attachment made the camera bulky, but considering the former Watcher had to keep his distance because of the guards, the camera’s cumbersome nature was a necessary burden. Crouched by the ledge, Logan squinted into the wind and lifted the camera.

Looking through the view finder and twisting the lens to zoom in further, the Logan watched one guard pacing to his right, semi-automatic cradled in his arms. He approached another guard, this one armed with just a walkie-talkie. A conversation began, though the former Watcher had no idea what they were saying.

( Wild Conjecture )

So this was what blood running cold felt like.

Logan never experienced such a feeling before – not even the night he watched helplessly as Diego tore into Francis’ neck and drank from her. There had been shock, sure, not to mention anger and fear and a large chunk of mourning. But even that paled in comparison to this. Logan couldn’t even describe the chill running through him as he stood in the doorway to his apartment.

The one place he thought for sure he was safe. The display before him, the collage macabre greeting the former Watcher, was something one might expect to find in a clichéd horror flick, maybe even an episode of CSI: or Law and Order.

But it was real. Staring him right in the face. Setting his black shoulder bag on the white counter separating the kitchen from the living room, the bookstore owner’s eyes scanned the walls, near and far, seeing only the windows and ceiling undisturbed by whoever put together this little exhibit.

( I wonder, Watcher ... )

( Voicemail for Izzy )

Logan wasn't quite sure how to feel.

The protestors had stopped making his storefront their place of residence, and for that the former Watcher was glad. He didn't know the details of why, since he'd made a point in recent weeks to steer clear of the news in all its various forms, but Logan didn't really care. The noise and the chants and the hatred were no longer camped out in front of his place of business, and that was really all that mattered. Some customers that stayed away even began coming back.

Still, the bookstore owner couldn't shake a vague feeling of dread. Not because the latest shipment of vampire and werewolf texts was late -- the UPS guy said he'd be there at 9, yet the clock was approaching noon and still no brown truck.

No, it had been almost a month and a half since Diego's appearance, and no sign of the vampire since.

Was Izzy right? Was there really nothing to be worried about? Logan wondered if that was the case; he no longer trained a Slayer, and Francis had been dead for over a year now. What would be the point in making Logan's life hell again? The vampire made it perfectly clear how little Logan mattered to him, so maybe he'd decided to skip town and leave things as they were.

Only Logan knew Diego better than that. The creep would show himself again, when least expected, and the former Watcher shuddered to think what his next entrance would entail. All the mystical security measures had been taken, at home and here in the store, but still, Logan wasn't comfortable.

( Just Between You and Me )

"What part of 'no comment' don't you get?" Logan spoke into the phone. "I won't even talk to the Chicago papers, so why would I all of a sudden decide The New York Times is worthy of a quote?"

The former Watcher sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and pacing around his living room. CNN's video feed of the local news report that cornered Avery was running on the television behind him, though the device was set on mute so Logan wouldn't have to listen to the anchor's commentary. "You can think whatever you want ... I just have better things to do with my time than give quotes to people who are just going to distort whatever I have to say to fit their own misguided agenda."

Hanging up the phone, Logan heaved a sigh and let himself sink into the sofa. Bags hung under his eyes due to the combined three hours of sleep he'd had in the last four days, and Logan hadn't shaved in two. Diego was no longer his primary concern; the vehemence of the protests in front of Thoth's Library, and the public nightmare stemming from that reporter cornering Avery on his way to work made damn sure to put the vampire who killed his Slayer on the back burner.

Long story short, Logan was growing weary of the whole scenario. The sooner the commotion died down, and the sooner the former Watcher could get back to living his life, the better it would all be.

( No End In Sight )