Who: Harry, Thomas, and Justine When/Where: Backdated to last night after Justine's post/The Premier Hotel, Times Square, NYC What: There's a damsel in distress. Need I say more? Warnings: Possibly, for talk of vampirism and suggested crime?
New York Taxis were probably the furthest thing from a white horse Harry could find, and they didn't go as fast. But they were cheaper, and right then, that was important. Harry hadn't only been joking, when he told Thomas it was nice to feel needed- with all of the other vigilantes running around the city, there was hardly a need for a wizard PI to throw his stereotypically-pointy hat into the ring. Even the Council was absent which, while entirely terrifying and thrilling in its own right, also deprived Harry of the nominal pay he received for his duty as a Warden. He'd looked into it, and the guy he replaced here wasn't broke, but it was a pretty near thing. If he didn't hear back from someone at that detective agency soon, he was going to have to get desperate.
Lost in thought as he was, it took an annoyed grunt from the driver to have Harry realize they were sitting in front of his building. Telling the guy to hold on a second, he slipped out of the cab; he knew the cabbie wasn't going to leave without getting paid, so he shut the door behind him- paranois was akin to breathing, by this point in Harry's life.
Mouse lumbered to his feet from where he was draped across the stoop, moving down to greet Harry who scratched his ruff idly. "You ready?" He knew this had to be just as nerve-wracking for Thomas as it was for him, if not more so; he wasn't the one with someone in apparent danger for once. It would have actually been refreshing, had he not been worried on Thomas' behalf.