The Universe's Mixer

Jack pranced around the City, gleefully holding a can of spray paint in the most obnoxious color of green he could find. He'd been going around all day leaving little notes for his beloved Son. The sweet, darling protege he'd created. The spawn of his machinations. The seed of his... well. Not his loins. Brains didn't have seed as far as he knew, but that's where the little tyke had sprung from.

The notes didn't make a lot of sense to the outside world. They weren't all enormous either. Just a smile here, and exclamation point there. Maybe a glorious green sign shouting "GOOD JOB!" or "Daddy loves you!" Anything to urge the little guy on in his horrors.

He sprayed one now that stated "Remember Gray Dick!" hoping that the little Robin was still in, or back in, town. Wanting the boy to have a go at him. Scar him up. Destroy him a little bit.

Jack's hands were covered in green. It reminded him of when he'd spray painted the penii on the walls oh, so long ago. The silent conversation with Big Dark And Broody who was not a Batfuck of any kind. What a strange time that had been. Had it really been that far in the past?

"Razors for everybody!" Jack painted on a park bench and skipped away.

"Water's good for many things!" on the side of a little girl's wagon. She began to cry, and Jack patted her head and stole her lolly, then moved on.

Dean stood in line feeling smug. He had had a pretty good time with Murphy; he hadn't had enough to drink to forget her name or how much fun they'd had. She wasn't bad for his first time back in the saddle, and she seemed to like what he was doing. He gave some chick passing by the silent "how you doin'?" nod, even adding a slight smile and a wink. The City did know how to pick hot chicks. His head turned to watch her go, and he didn't even blush when he got caught girl watching by another woman. He gave her a smile with a shrug and a wink. He was a man who appreciated the female form. He bit down on a laugh as the woman gave him a huff and a roll of the eyes.

The hunter took a step forward, glad that there was only one more person in front of him. Sure, he was feeling a little sore from whatever bed gymnastics he'd gone through not long ago, but he was certain he wouldn't have those dreams again. Either the caffeinine he'd decided would be his new best friend or the sex was going to keep those damn dreams out. He wasn't going to see that tall bastard back in his head again, and he sure as hell wasn't going to be doing that shit with a man...ever again.

All he needed was a little pickme up that came with a melt-in-your-mouth scone, and then he'd be off. He also had a plan, but it would have to wait until dark. Anyone who knew the hunter might find it a little strange that he hadn't noticed a place called Fangtasia, or more that he hadn't thought of going to check it out. Honestly, Dean thought Fangtasia was a little too obvious for a smart vampire, and there was no way he'd been beaten bloody by some dumb thug of a bloodsucker. So, Fangtasia would be the last place he hit...possibly.

With another step he was at the bar to order. Dean smiled at the female barista, giving her a wink and a nod. Yeah, she wouldn't be his first choice, but she wasn't bad. Just the right height for...As his mind wandered down the dark rolling ways of the gutter, he realized that the woman beside him hadn't moved the whole time he'd been in line. What he had seen from the back hadn't been bad. He glanced at the barista who was busy with some order before he looked at the dark haired woman.

"Hey, they take a while here?" He turned, hip propped against the counter, a smile on his lips that suggested he knew what to do in and out of the bedroom. Just give him the time of day.

Things were finally starting to go well for Logan. School was still out for summer and he'd been working with Lorne. The guy was... different, but mostly in a fun way. He still hadn't quite gotten used to the demon make-up, but he'd definitely gotten used to having a regular paycheck. Not to mention that he was surprised to find he actually enjoyed the business of running a night club. Doing the books, making sure maintenance was taken care of, overseeing employees... all that stuff was something he actually felt like he could do, and actually enjoyed.

It was... odd, to have a sort of purpose. To actually have to work for a paycheck. Make that, work for a paycheck that actually covered more than the bare minimum he'd been making while working in the cafeteria at the university.

Perhaps things were looking up, he mused as he made his way home from Caritas early one morning. He wasn't being particularly cautious about his surroundings or being out so late, as he still suffered from the delusions of invincibility that most men his age had. Of course, getting shot and walking away without a scratch earlier that year didn't help with those delusions.

So when three shadowy figures fell into step behind him, Logan didn't hear them coming. He didn't realize anyone was there until he turned his head slightly, just in time to catch a sharp blow from something cold and metal. A gun, he reflected as he crumpled to the ground.

"Give me your wallet and any valuables you have on you," a voice growled as Logan looked up into the sharp glint of silver metal, pointed directly at him.

He chuckled darkly.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," he said. "I've had money in this City for all of two weeks, and this happens?"

Yeah, Logan wasn't the best at keeping his tongue in check, even when his life was on the line.