The Universe's Mixer

Prison wasn't the place that Ted particularly wanted to be.

But it was a hell of a shock as he walked out of his cell, supposedly to go to lunch, and found himself standing in the middle of a sidewalk. At first he wondered if he had been slipped some kind of drug, but logic told him that Charlie's friends were way too attentive for that to happen. Which left him wondering if he was having a stroke.

Ted didn't want to have a stroke.

He felt like he was still pretty young. A lot of years ahead of him. Lots of stuff to do. Like getting out of prison. Dying in prison would be worse than spending a few years in it. Ted didn't want to die in prison. But what was the likelihood that he would survive a stroke in a prison hospital? They didn't even really pay much attention to the inmates, surely not enough to tell that there was something very off about one of them. His smile was already crooked, so how would they know if it was off more?

The air smelled so fresh. The sun was so very bright. He wasn't entirely sure, but these were pretty atypical symptoms of a stroke as far as he was aware. Sure they probably happened occasionally, but why would he get so lucky? Ted was the kind of guy that should have had a black out stroke, not a pretty 'here, you're back in the world' hallucination stroke.

"Hey, guy? Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?" It was a woman's voice. Why was there a woman's voice in prison? They didn't allow women to just wander around the prison floor. Ted turned and looked, and sure enough, there she was. Blond. Blue eyes.

Then he realized something else. There was snow. There was a lot of snow. It didn't snow in California. Not in this part of California, anyway.

"I think I'm okay." He answered her. She smiled and walked on. Ted had a look at himself and noted the orange jumpsuit. He'd definitely just been in prison. Now he was definitely not. He wasn't positive yet that he wasn't having a stroke, but it was becoming less likely. You didn't really hallucinate other people. Probably.

That just left the question of where he was. Okay, and how he'd gotten here. Alright, also why he was still wearing the orange jumpsuit.

Ted was too bewildered to be too scared, but too scared to do much other than just stand there for the time being. Watching the people around him. Noticing more and more things as he looked from side to side. That there were cars. Actual cars. There were no cars in prison. And a kid on a bike. Stores. Trees. The snow again. More snow. The sky.

Ted Earley was definitely not having a stroke.

"I'm not in prison anymore." He muttered to himself.

The TVs went dead for a moment, fuzzing out to blackness. Radios caught the static then died for a moment too. Even those who had computers received a viral feed that was surely worse than any pop up scam ever invented; poor Lindy Lou Who had been working on her research paper when the computer screen went blank. She wasn't much happier when what should come on. What took the radio waves, the air waves, the cable, the dsl, highspeed...you name it, this was on it.

"Hi! This is Windy Weatherton, coming to you from the City's KWIT Weather Center." He was a mix of Dick Clark, Michael Duncan Clark, Casey Kasem, and Movie Phone Guy. "Yes, Windy with your weather forecast."

Those who could see it were shown the map of the City. It wasn't anything overly fancy. Just a little Doppler radar over the most generic city streets one could imagine. It gave the false sense that the City could be mapped in general.

"As you can see with the blue spots is that we are in for a long winter." The Doppler image was completely blue; the streets had disappeared. Windy laughed as if that blue image was the biggest and best joke he'd ever made. "That's right; snow, and more snow. Pull out your snow shoes, people, we're in it for the long haul. Might want to bring in the pets and the kids, folks. Ha ha! Stay inside when you can. Ha ha! And watch out for those yeti!"

Windy beamed that "Damn, I'm good looking" smile, posing a little to show off his muscles...through his blazer.

"Yes, this has been Windy Weatherton, for KWIT News."

And like before, everything went right back to normal. Broadcasts took up as if they were never interrupted, and Lindy Lou Who got back to copying and pasting a paper she'd found online.

The smoothie had been just what the doctor ordered. A good cup of coffee would have done wonders too, but the banana-berry mix was good. So, the detective and the agent trudged through the snow to the Hospital.

Crews didn't seem to notice that the streets might be changing as they walked, probably because this was one of his first trips through the City. He didn't ask if they'd be there anytime soon; he just let his partner guide him along. They'd get there when they got there, and when they got there would be the right time for their arrival.

What Crew did notice were the festive decorations. Christmas had already come and gone for him, and he wasn't sure how he'd gotten back to Christmas, unless this really wasn't Christmas but instead some other winter holiday. It certainly looked a little Christmasy. His brows furrowed a little; his lips turned to a slight frown as he tried to remember what exactly he'd gotten Ted for the holidays. What had he gotten Reese? He hoped whatever he'd gotten they'd liked it.

"So, Dr. Lecter and Dr. Tam. Lecter sounds familiar. Are we playing good cop, bad cop? Crazy cop, good cop. Bad cop, bad cop?" There were a few more variations, but it was always good to have a decided style. Maybe. "This would have been easier if I could find my car. You think my car's here somewhere?"

Logan wasn't the type of guy that needed fancy digs. A lot of the time he didn't need a roof at all, but this City was pouring snow like it was going out of style, so he buttoned up his jacket and went looking for a place that would give him the least amount of trouble. Sometimes he was lucky and found a bar, but this time not so much. The homeless shelter housed all sorts, and the varied scents that hit him along with the heat of the shelter took a bit of adjusting.

Eventually he picked out the scent of a thin soup (beef stock, carrots, barley) but looking around at the crowd, he figured the rest of 'em needed it more than him. He chose a bench in a corner and settled back with his thick hairy arms heavy over his chest. Just have to wait out the night here, then head out again.