The Universe's Mixer

Hannibal had finally managed to track down the location of his beloved. He had thought to use Lestat and the vampire's powers and his connection to himself and River in order to do it. In the end, however, he discovered he didn't need to be quite so sneaky about it. He managed to discover the whereabouts of the girl who held his heart by simply listening to the conversation of an officer in the waiting room of the emergency department.

The two cops were there because one of them had food poisoning, but they did not stop talking about the strange girl they had in the holding cell. They spoke of the language the girl used, the way she moved. Hannibal knew without asking any questions that they had to be speaking of River. When they discussed - in hushed tones that the cannibal could hear quite easily - the crime she was accused of, he was more than certain.

Hannibal excused himself from work and made his way immediately to the police station. River had been here too long already, and far too long without him visiting. He was irritated, and he let it show in his tone and the way that he spoke. His words were far too long for the average person, let alone a City citizen. His distaste colored them. His displeasure bit at the officer behind the desk at check in.

"It sure took you long enough to get here." Another cop appeared and raised an eyebrow as Hannibal filled in his information on the sign in sheet.

"What do you mean?" The young doctor looked up, pausing in his writing to lay the full effect of his red eyes on the man who'd spoke.

"She told us to call you a while ago." The pair exchanged glances.

Now Hannibal was more than irritated. He was outright angry. The incompetence he was witnessing was enough to make him want to kill these two where they stood. Instead, he made a mental note of the names on their badges. Perhaps he would see to them later.

"I assure you both that if I had received any phone call about this situation, I would have arrived here with as much haste as I did today once I learned her whereabouts. The fact that I did not speaks to the inability of this outfit to follow through. The very least that you can be assured of is that I will be giving your names to your superior."

And maybe they would see the business end of a blade at some point in the future, when Hannibal could be assured that he would not be connected to their deaths or disappearances. He finished filling out his required paperwork and was led to the cell which held his girlfriend. Hannibal waited for the escorting officer to leave before moving closer to the bars. He hated seeing her like this, caged. And he felt horribly for not finding her sooner.

Candy and Frank, as infallible as ever, sat behind the desk of the KWIT City News, the camera focused on them, their teeth bright and white and shining. Hair perfectly quaffed. Ever the ideal - if somewhat fake - television personalities.

"And get this, Frank." Candy laughed her tittering, false laugh.

"Get what?" Frank turned in his chair slightly, leaning in to his co-anchor. What the camera didn't pick up was the spike of booze that his breath held. Frank had been drinking again. He mooned a little in the direction of the pretty girl to his side.

"City Hall was burned down and rebuilt within a night's time!"

"Will wonders never cease."

"It's important! It's news! The people should know!"

"But why? It was fixed, right?"

"Can I just report on this without you getting snarky?"

"No."

"It seems that the deed was done by two..."

"Who cares."

"I care, Frank! I care!"

"I don't. Windy, do you care?"

"I don't care about anything!" Came an off-screen voice. "What is there to care about when there's no fucking actual weather?"

"Windy!" Candy's eyes were wide.

"What? It's true. My job, my whole life, it's supposed to be weather! But this shit never changes! It's always nice out. Sometimes it rains a little. But where are the big snows? Where are the storms that wreck buildings? Where is the goddamned fucking bastard asshole......"


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Jesse didn't feel good about what he'd done to Wash. Fighting a man that drunk wasn't fair to begin with. But his pride just wouldn't let him sit and take the attempted beating that Wash was trying to bestow. He knew that he had to tell Zoe before she found out some other way. Considering what she did with a lot of her time these days, Jesse didn't have any doubts that she would. He'd decided that he was going to let the bruises from the fight sit. Linger as they would naturally. It was only fair. Unless he went and healed Wash as well, making those marks of their encounter go away felt cowardly.

He supposed he could go heal Wash, but wasn't certain the other man wanted to see him right now.

Instead, Jesse took himself to a little outdoor cafe that had some really excellent and wonderfully unhealthy foods. He ordered himself a double plate of beignets and sat down to consume them. He'd not had the fried treat in a long while, and he was feeling a touch homesick for deep south cooking. Maybe he also wanted to wallow just a little bit.

Jesse sat away from the other customers so that he could smoke and not bother them, and because he didn't particularly want to be around anybody else.

Dexter had plunged himself face first into the pile of work that he'd found to do. He'd sent off the things that Detective Crews had asked for the same day that he'd asked for them. He'd even found a few other things that the detective might find interesting, and sent those too. He took on extra shifts, and found himself accepting assignments before what he was currently doing was done.

When he wasn't at work, he felt a little lost. A little alone. There was no sign of George, or any of the other Reapers. No Selina. Nobody that he was familiar with. Nobody to take his mind off of things. Nobody to hold him back when it came to parts of his darker nature. It was dangerous. So dangerous. Dexter was free of responsibility to keep himself in check. He couldn't have that. He couldn't return to what he'd been right before he'd been sent back to Miami.

And thus Dexter found himself at a crime scene in the early morning. It wasn't a murder, he was sure of that. It looked to be an industrial accident. There was heavy machinery involved. A few shaken up workers. But they'd called him in to make sure that the deceased wasn't pushed. Or tripped on purpose. Dexter discovered himself disappointed that it wasn't more complicated. That would have taken time. He would have needed to collect samples to take back to the lab. As it was, he hadn't even cracked open his case.

Sometimes, blood talked too much.

"Morgan." An officer walked up behind him. "Can you go assure the press that this was an accident, please. We've already got too many murders happening in this city. We don't need another."

"Yeah." He said. He wanted to say that he didn't usually deal with press. But this was another thing that would keep him out of the apartment and solitude longer.

Dinah was in a festive mood at the moment. She had just finished her Christmas shopping so her arms were loaded down with bags of presents, and now she was taking a stroll by the City's gigantic Christmas tree. There was still that sadness at the idea of having Christmas without Jake, but there were things to be happy about too. She didn't know what they'd do and she didn't much care about the details, but she was looking forward to her first Christmas with Dean. She had a new team member to work with, and she currently had bags of presents for everyone else that was important to her too.

The tree itself was a sight to see. Dinah had always liked Christmas lights and this year was no different. She lingered just a bit and bought some hot chocolate from a street vendor before finding a bench to set her things down on. She planned to patrol later but it couldn't hurt to take a few minutes to simply be, could it?

The sounds of Christmas carols greeted her ears and there was just the faintest bit of chill in the air as she sat and enjoyed the hot chocolate and the lights.