Morningstar Manor

Seth had been extremely excited when Charlie had asked him to open the Gallery. That meant his friend was doing something fun enough to need to sleep in the next day! However when Charlie had arrived not long after Seth had opened it was clear whatever the plans had been hadn't gone through. But things had been busy enough that morning that Seth hadn't gotten the story.

Now though things were slow and Seth slipped into Charlie's office and plopped down into the chair across from his desk.

"Okay. What happened?"

The mailbox always seemed to get fuller after a chocolate style holiday, and not only did Gregori have to bring post home from work, but deal with the stuffed box here too! He almost cursed as a load of cards and envelopes fell out of the box and slid across the counter to glide towards the floor, but he resisted, just. Which was probably a good thing, because he was down on his hands and knees picking them up when he heard footsteps, and looked up, to see who else was checking the mail... "Um, hi, I would say be careful, but I think it has stopped attacking me now."

He grinned, both hands full of mail, and stood back up again, although there were several pieces still on the floor.

Guest artists sometimes made Charlie's life difficult and Cassie Matthews was one of the more demanding ones.

Her work was excellent and selling well but tonight she had decided she wanted to party and had insisted that Charlie accompany her. Lost and Found seemed suitable so he had squired her into the place then stood back and let her work the room. It didn't take her long to pull and now he was left to make up his mind whether to dance again or to admit defeat and go home. Thing was there just wasn't anyone who took his fancy, though a few had tried.

Charlie sighed, suspecting he was too old for clubbing.

Ang had been feeling fine all day, and now, settled happily in the bath was soaking away another of those annoyingly niggly back aches she’d been having for over a week. It really did work, the warm to almost hot water soothed, the lavender oil calmed, and the soft strains of Vivaldi’s four seasons kept the baby from kicking too much. Perfectly relaxing and she sighed happily as she sank a little deeper into the water. The only downside was needing help to get out of the bath, in case she slipped of course, but even then, nothing compared to a sleepy Ang waddling to bed with a sleepy baby not kicking her crazy and actually getting some sleep!!! Now there was a thing.

She was just starting to sit up again when her back twinged a little, and she stopped to ease it again, closing her eyes and slowly sliding back downwards. Holding on to the sides of the bath she was definitely feeling sleepy when something else happened. Her womb clenched, almost like, no, just like a contraction. But Ang didn’t worry, she’d been having Braxton Hicks for over a week, and the midwife had told her just this morning that the baby wasn’t ready to come out yet and to stop worrying... she still had several weeks to go and to go home and rest. A few minutes later she had another contraction, stronger, and longer lasting, but she put that down to Braxtons too.... she even added more hot water to the bath, because the water looked funny and was getting cooler. It never even dawned on her that her waters had broken, and that this was it. She was too relaxed, and too comfortable to move just yet.

Leaving Gavin sleepy-eyed and moments away from sleep after reading through the story book for the third time, Alec knocked gently on the bathroom door and poked his head in. “Pruney yet?” he teased.

( Then something good happened. )

Insurance claims, police reports, bills; questionnaires, cost estimates and forms.

Urquhart was carrying a stack of papers in his hands as he came into the Mocha, returning from the hospital from his third check-over in as many days.

He had a large sticking plaster on his forehead, a smaller one  on his jaw, and was still limping slightly.

He was flipping through the letters in that stack while queueing for coffee.

He wasn't quite sure yet who had done this to him, but he would find out, and then somebody would pay.

Even for the favours he now owed Nick.

It was the woman who's saved him.

Urquhart had gone to fetch some coffee from the Auberge, and when he returned and unlocked the door to his garage to go on with tinkering on his Harley (and finalising some plans he had), he'd seen a woman from the corner of his eye, short and sweet and Indian, chatting into a pink-covered iPhone while passing the mouth of the alley.

He'd stepped back, and turned to crane his neck and look at her, instead of going inside.




Burning fiery flames shot out of the door, sad pieces of defunct motorbike, tools, computer hardware and half-restored furniture rained down on the pavement and on Urquhart, who found himself flat on his back in the alley.

Meticulously timed device -- if he'd gone inside instead of backwards...

Damn, he'd have to call the police and the fire department on that. Everything else would be terribly suspicious.

When he got to his feet, he saw that the woman at the mouth of the alley was already doing that.

Ang had been shopping, very briefly, she felt increasingly like she was not just going to have a baby, but a baby elephant, and it was most uncomfortable to walk far, but, she had wanted some new things for the baby, and for herself. A taxi to Michael's Bros and back, easy, but she'd been a little too energetic and now sat, at least half asleep, in the Mocha, stirring a cup of tea, while contemplating the possibilities of getting help up to the apartment... for her, never mind the bags!

She was happy though, the baby was kicking well but not on anything particularly tender, and it felt strange, but she thought the head might have dropped down, which would explain that lumbering waddle much better... of course that had other implications too... She looked up as people came and went, half hoping to see Emma, or Alec, or well, anybody who might lend her a hand, or at least some conversation!

Pajamas from the drawer in the big dresser in the bedroom; the pretty silk robe from the hook in the bathroom, the toothbrush next to his from the shiny silver holder on the counter....

Jazz had a list and she did her best to follow it without thought, to ignore the trembling in her hands as she gathered up every small piece of herself scattered about Tom's apartment and dropped them into a simple Micheal's Bros. box she'd saved from the trash.

A pair of heels from the end of the neat line of men's dress shoes in the closet; the lovely polished hair brush from the nightstand.

She lingered for a moment by the bed, idly picking hair from the brush as she pictured the watch she'd given him for his birthday sitting in the box amongst his other shinies and wondered whether or not she should take it...but, in the end, she dropped the brush with the rest and hefted the box into her arms, leaving the jewelery behind.

It'd been a gift, and whatever he decided to do with it (sell it probably, a vicious part of her hissed) was his business. Not hers.

Not anymore.

( She's never coming back. )

Bea exited the bathroom to head toward the bedroom, her shoulders hunched a bit and her step quickening as the surprising coolness of the apartment assaulted her through her pajamas.

"Wheeeeeeeere is spring," she said with a shiver as she dove under the covers next to Eli, then promptly tucked her cold toes against his legs. "Didn't it start sometime this week?"

Tristan was grumpy. He hadn't gotten much sleep and the weather didn't help at all. It was supposed to be spring for crying out loud and it had snowed. He loved living here in the City, but on days like this he could go for a tropical island too.

His demeanor matched Joy's, though he'd learned long ago that mutual ignoring was the best way to handle her. At least, the best way for him. He'd also learned to tolerate different types of coffee which he hadn't ordered. Taking a seat at a table by the door he lifted his cup and sighed. "And even plain black is an unreal expectation..." Inside his cup the coffee was brown, not black as he'd asked for.

Seth had been in the cafe next to the gallery waiting on coffees for himself and Charlie when he spotted the figure standing beneath the Angel statue. He did a double take, then looked from the statue to the blond man and back and forth a few more times. Eyes wide he took his coffees and dashed back to the gallery and inside, ignoring Leena who looked at him with raised brows.

"Oh my god!" he said, barging into Charlie's office - but still managing not to spill the coffees, "the Angel statue is a real person!"

Travis had classes in the morning but he didn't care. It was St. Patrick's Day and he was going to celebrate. Plus, as an added bonus this year, he was legal for once. Car bombs were starting to grow on him, though he did keep laughing over trivial things. As he picked up the glass off the bar he left the change as a tip and promptly bumped into the person behind him, then laughed again.

"Holy shit dude, sorry..." He said not realizing that dude was his default term when drunk.

Cleo had been out, she had college in the morning, but right now she didn't much care about that. Jazz had been moping, and pining, and pining and moping, and Cleo had decided she wasn't going to do the same and had been out dancing and flirting and staying safe with bottled water and not spending too long with any one partner on the dance floor. She was tired, her feet ached, and she was sticky. But, she had to creep into the grave dark apartment, without turning on lights, or making a sound, because if she woke Jazz up, there would be, in no uncertain terms, Hell, To, Pay.

She knew that.

But she'd had enough of the frustration of tiptoeing around everything, and sort of accidentally slammed the apartment's front door as it slipped from her hands and crashed closed. "Oooops," she snickered softly, "bad door!"

She gave up on tiptoeing and sauntered down to her room instead, humming a little under her breath, one of the tunes she'd been dancing to earlier, oh, was that a noise? She paused, by her bedroom door, waiting for the inevitable arrival of what could only be described as 'dead Jazz walking', well, if she was only half awake anyway.

Leena was on the desk today so Charlie was out in the body of the gallery tidying a wall up after taking down a load of pictures. He was filling the screw holes at the moment and would paint it later.

Because it was a boring job he was listening to music and singing along.

One week after brought denial.

Tom just needs time. After all, he's done this before...he'll come back, and explain.

It'll be okay.

That's what she told herself as she got up in the morning, before she went to bed at night, as she carted her cell phone with her everywhere, as she looked over her shoulder everytime she heard footsteps....

Surely it was just a matter of time.

Travis had been out past midnight with Macy and they'd partied in his birthday. Which was why when Memphis had come in early, Travis was just falling asleep. The brothers had mutually slept in until noon, Memphis getting up first and making coffee, bacon and eggs. It had been enough to get Travis out of bed, groggy and grumbling about everything being too loud or too bright, but out of bed.

Memphis caught him up on the news of home, which wasn't all that much actually. There weren't any changes as of yet and he wasn't going to be home for good for a little while. There was some trouble at the shop now that the old man was officially laid up and Memphis didn't overlook the same things his father had. After the brothers bonded for the afternoon, Memphis called Jane and they agreed to all go out to dinner at the Lucky Mother Clucker. It was his favorite place to go and he'd done the legal drunkenness last night with Macy so he wasn't feeling compelled, or well enough, to do it tonight too.

Travis had looked over the menu and ignored the small talk of Memphis catching Jane up on the lack of change anywhere except the mechanic shop. "So I'm going to get that back under control at least. Maybe try to get a shop manager I trust to look after the place until Dad's fully recovered." He finished with, though it was a lofty aspiration right now given the crew already in place. The family garage had been turned into a chop shop and that was not sitting well on Memphis's shoulders.

He had to go into the station later but this morning it was time to get back into the workout routine. Deacon had already run on the treadmill to warm up and now - in track pants, no shirt, and boxing gloves - he was letting the bag hanging in the corner have a piece of his mind.

Ang waddled (literally these days) into the Mocha, grabbing a paper from the rack as she did so, in search of a cup of tea and some light snack-age. Preferably of the muffin or cookie variety, nothing too healthy! She felt in the need of a bit of company, but no way was she going outside, too cold and besides, there were usually more people in here!

She got a pot of tea, and a plate of muffins, and settled down at a table where she could be comfy and still accommodate 'the bump', and started idly browsing through the City News. The japanese earthquake and tsunamis featured heavily of course, and she sighed a little, the world seemed to be in complete flux right now. A thought that made her exclaim out loud as she read the next article, "The north pole is moving to where?"

Urquhart did his serious training by himself, of course. He didn't want people to do see what he could really do.

But for a regular light work-out, just to make sure he moved every muscle in his body every day, the semi-public gym in the first basement was good enough.

So he was there, humming to himself while he was on the stair-climbing machine, going up an imaginary skyscraper.

Jason had the night shift tonight and that was fine by him. He didn't sleep much anyway. But he still had about half an hour before he was technically on duty - though most would tell you he was never off duty - and so decided a coffee as in order. Large Mocha Latte in hand Jason found a table where he could watch the room and took a seat.

***

Jack had just come off a 24 hour straight shift and stumbled into the Mocha in search of food and drink. It might seem silly to be going for coffee when he was now free to head back to his little apartment and crash but he needed the routine of a coffee and a muffin to unwind from work. Then there would be a shower and bed.

Jack's uniform shirt was already unbuttoned half way down his chest to show the white singlet beneath but now he untucked it from his trousers and let it hang completely open. He gave Joy his usual wicked smile - even if it was a bit tired - and she flushed and fluttered and soon he had his coffee and chocolate chip muffin and was finding a table.

***

Deacon had slept like a rock in his own bed for far longer than he probably should have but that was fine by him. He'd needed it. When he did finally get up today he'd worked out hard in the gym, showered, gone grocery shopping for real, and now - getting ready to head into the station for a late shift and to get caught up on his paperwork - he headed into the Mocha dressed in jeans, black boots, black button up and his leather jacket, gun tucked inside in its shoulder holster. Getting in line for the counter he tucked his hands in his pockets and smiled. It was good to be home.