The Universe's Mixer

They had gals. They had jobs. They had money and lives. It seemed that they were set.

Charlie wondered if they were. If they were truly set.

Rather than keep wondering, the City detective left a message for his housemate join him for some dinner. They hadn't talked much lately, and he wanted to revisit how life was going, where it was going. He wanted to know that Ted was doing well.

Unfortunately, as it was bound to happen, the plans were ruined by a crime. It wasn't a difficult one; Jennifer and Charlie had discovered the truth, solving the case in record time. The butler actually did do it. The case kept Charlie away from one of his longest best friends, and Charlie wished all the other cases that came across the desk he shared with Jennifer were solved as easily and cleanly.

The detective stood in the kitchen and stared into the refrigerator. What did he want for breakfast? Should he see if Ted was around to have the conversation over breakfast instead? Was that milk fresh? What did 42 really mean?

The warrior woman woke with a start then groaned, resting back in her bed. She rolled to her side to look at the spot that was more times than not filled with a Cowboy God. It wasn't that she begrudged him his time, but the fright, whatever it was that she'd woken from, had made her wish for someone there beside her. Him. She didn't call for him. Instead, Zoe stretched, shoved that desire down, and got out of bed. Jesse was there for her as much he could be; he also had other responsibilities after all.

The Amazon prepared for the day, as she usually did. Or had planned on doing so, only to find that she was out of milk. She had other food stuffs that would make a fine breakfast, but she had developed a desire to have a small bowl of cereal. She nudged that silly frustration away and went on with her day.

Zoe got to work, dealt with the usual day including a strange outburst in a copy room that involved toner, anatomy, and a coworker's plan to "knock a moron's fool head off for being so wasteful." When it came time for lunch, she headed down to the cafeteria in the building only to find that the one menu item she'd wanted was no longer available - even if she though she'd gotten down just the start of lunch. After lunch, she worked in the Batflat, grappling with a grappling hook that refused to shoot as she wanted. She wasn't a sure shot like Jayne, but she wasn't bad. No matter how much she did to the equipment, it simply would not hit target. Sometimes it wouldn't even deploy.

With the work day done, with what little bit of work she actually felt she accomplished, she headed to her favorite place for a snack or a meal. Favorite in that she visited it almost daily. It seemed to always been right across the way from the Tower, and it served just the right thing, a comfort food. When she got there, something was certainly not as it should be.

"What do you mean they lost their license?" The tall woman glared at the poor policeman who was unlucky enough to get caught up in the small altercation over the last bao the stand would sale. "It's the gorram City. They don't care about licensees here."

The policeman stared. He was only trying to do his job...honest.

"If you so much as move closer to that bun, I will end you." They were ridiculous words, Zoe knew that, but the day had been full of frustrations and that strange nagging of small denials. On different days, they could and would be inconsequential, but a day full of them? Even the strongest and sturdiest Browncoat found herself wanting to shoot some little old lady for a bit of steamed bread.