The Universe's Mixer

Tim leaned against the wall leading to the cellblocks, his arms crossed over his chest, one foot resting against the wall. He lifted his jacket sleeve, glancing at his rolex before rolling his eyes and turning his attention back to the doorway, waiting for Edward to be released and see just who had paid his bond.

He wasn't an idiot, and he had looked very carefully into this City and it's secrets, discovering the Library with little trouble. He had no doubts that Edward had looked up his...family's identities the moment he could, and thus, knew exactly who was waiting for him. He started tapping he foot absently against the wall, wishing the whole processes would hurry up already so he could return to his case files.

(*Warning! Adult content. Please be advised!***)


Harley patted the flowers that Steve had brought for her, having found a pretty vessel to store them in. It was an old vase, an ugly blue with a crack down one side, but it served a purpose and thus she accepted it. Honestly if you turned the vase just so...well, you couldn't even notice the crack in the paint at all.

On her desk were her playing cards. All of the deck sat intact, and there was a Joker card face up on the top. She had been reminiscing, missing Jack and wishing those flowers had been from him. She sighed, twirling one of the daisies she'd plucked from the vase between her finger and thumb, watching the petals spin.

It had been too long since anyone had gotten her flowers. Jack didn't ever anymore, and Jonathan sure hadn't. So she enjoyed these while she could. Even though they had water, the stems already were beginning to wilt. The roses were sensitive and now they looked comically sad and droopy. It amused her and she hated it at the same time.

"Why can't ya last foreva?" Harley asked the daisy, as if she expected an answer. She spun slowly in her desk chair, barefoot. It was after hours, no patients, so she had discarded her heels and let her toes breathe.

"And how come tha only man that wants to buy me flowas is one of those Hero types? He is kinda cute, yanno what I mean? All big an strong...he ain't to bright though. Ain't too bright at all." She shook her head as if it were some kind of shame. Harley had tried to warn Steve about the Scarecrow. Even if the entity was gone, it always came back sooner or later. And it didn't like to play nice if you pissed it off. Likely Steve could handle it, but that was if Scarecrow played fair. Playing fair wasn't always the case in those circumstances. No. No. It was better for the blonde hero to stay away. She could go to him and in the meantime she would sit here and play with his flowers. Her flowers.

Music wafted through an open door and on to the sidewalk like the gentle waves lapping the shore of a pristine beach. It was a warning feeling, comforting. Even despite the fact that the person creating it was mediocre at best. Music was music, though, and for a man that spent most of his mortal life making it, hearing it being played again like that brought all of the memories to the forefront of his mind.

Eric liked to think he could push away the memories, store the feelings in the depths of his mind. He still became surprised once in a while when something so minute dredged them up from where he had put them with no intent on allowing them to resurface.

Life had a funny way of reminding you what you used to be with subtle cues and forgotten promises.

Like a shadow, Eric lingered in the darkness of the open doorway of the small, local music lounge as it touched the sidewalk. A shoulder pressed lightly against the frame and he listened. Nobody would have known he was there, like the shadows he came from he exists solely in the night. Macklyn had given him the sun, and yet Eric still lived for the night time and the shadows.

A stumble over a note and Eric smiled. He could see the stage from the doorway, the youth perched on a stool with an acoustic guitar pulled tight against his bent legs and long torso. The kid wasn't even looking up at the two people that had been brave enough to grace the vacant area before the stage itself. No, his eyes were focused on his fingers.

Eric could hear his heart over the music. Each breath the youth took, the smell of sweat, alcohol and cigarettes. Things Eric used to like and didn't care for now.

When the song ended, Eric nodded. The kid looked up and around, grinning like a fool. "Good for him," the hybrid breathed from the shadow. Then Eric turned and vanished into the night, moving off to contemplate the rest of the evenings affairs.

Bran flapped his wings and pushed from the roof, soaring after Eric as the vampire hybrid moved swiftly down the sidewalk. Only when they were approaching the yard to the small house Macklyn had chosen did they meet. The bird landed on a shoulder and both entered the abode with other things on their mind than sleep.