It was seven in the morning, and Piper was back at Daniel's apartment. He'd lost his favorite flute, and it had taken him a good two days to remember that he'd taken it to Daniel's the day he'd gotten sloshed.
He'd figured Daniel would be sleeping off a bottle or two of whiskey this early in the morning, and he rubbed his eyes sleepily as he pulled the universal key from his pocket, hoping the damned thing worked on the door. He was almost late for work, and he really wanted to stop by the conservatory after.
Thankfully, the door opened after a second of jostling the knob, and Piper let himself in. Everything was utterly quiet and dark, and Piper stopped for a second and just enjoyed the nothingness of it.
He reminded himself of why he was there, and he went into the bedroom, moving a thumbtack on the map as he went and chuckling to himself.
Daniel was in bed, drunk from the smell of him, and it was all Piper could do not to ruffle his messy hair as he knelt down beside the bed to look for the flute. He reached under the bed, his fingers just touching the cool metal, but his gaze focused on something else entirely. There, on the nightstand, was the book that Jane had put in Daniel's mail slot.
He silently stood up, and he just as silently took the book from the nightstand. He took one last look at Daniel, pocketed the flute and walked back to the living room. He opened the book as he walked, paging through it, stopping when he came to Daniel's handwriting. He didn't read much, but it was enough.
His fingers skimmed over something else, something inside the book, and he shoved it back in place angrily. He spent the next five minutes trying to convince himself to do the right thing, which involved leaving Daniel a granola bar and a note to 'Eat Something!' on the counter, then heading out with the book in his hand.
Finding her apartment was easy, and of course the elevator went right to her floor. Piper grumbled as he pulled out his key and opened her door. He didn't knock; didn't bother to worry if anyone was home. If he was going to leave this book, he was going to do it now, or he was going to change his mind. He knew that.
There were books everywhere. Books and the sort of small touches that women liked. It reminded him of his mother's living room, where there were a million places to sit and read and the TV was never on, even with the inception of Closed Captioning. It also had the feeling of someone who was a dreamer. Piper rolled his eyes.
He took the book, placed it on the table by the couch - the one that looked like it got the most use, based on the cups and mementos and books on it - and he sighed. He looked down at book, gave himself a chance to change his mind, and then he left the apartment. He slammed the door as loudly as he could, and he left for work.