The Universe's Mixer

Charlie wanted a book. Charlie wanted a new/old book. Charlie wanted to take his partner with benefits to get the new/old book. Charlie wanted to see a friend's place of work where he would take his partner with benefits to get the new/old book. Charlie was a very busy man.

The detective had heard Honour say that she worked in a bookstore, or had one. He'd done a little digging around and found a few places that might fit. So, under the ruse - a very poorly built one that would fall should his partner ask the right questions - that he wanted to buy a book and he needed her help, he headed out to find where Honour worked exactly. He wanted to make sure she was working for the right person, doing above the board things. He didn't think she'd mean to do something illegal, but innocents did fall into really bad situations when they were too trusting.

"Bookmark Books. First one on the list. Think we'll be lucky and I'll find the book in there?" He smiled at Jennifer. "Then we can get something to take to the park. There's this really shady spot that I'd like to show you. Poems, fruit, and park. Think that could be nice."

It was fortunate and a moment of relief when Ted discovered himself back in the City. He had had enough of the place he'd been put, and was ready to return to the oddness and moving streets. That he could handle. Apocalypse, he wasn't too gung ho for.

It was unfortunate that he returned without Jo by his side. No way of knowing if she was alright either, other than calling her number, leaving a message and sending a quick text right after. Which he did. Ted knew that in some places where call service didn't work, the short burst of a text would get through. If she wasn't in the City, maybe she could still get it. Of course, if she was back as well, hopefully she'd take it as worry and not him being some crazy stalker.

The only thing he could think to do immediately was to return to Charlie and the horse and the house. He'd learned that he had many things to tell his friend, and he wanted to see if Charlie had gone to the other place, too.

Ted found the door unlocked - as usual - and immediately headed up the stairs.

"Yes. Yes, I have your information." She said to the person on the other end of the phone. "Yes, I will look into it, I promise. We're all looking into every one of these calls. We're doing what we can. Yes. I understand... I do.... I unders... please stop yelling. Crying isn't really better... I'm sure that there's somebody more equipped to handle your current sta... yes, like a psychiatrist."

When she was finally able to put the phone down, Jennifer got up from her chair behind her desk and leaned out into the hallway.

"STOP FUCKING FORWARDING THOSE CALLS TO ME." She yelled - loudly - down to the reception desk. The anger was present in her voice. She'd told them before that if they actually wanted somebody to start looking into these cases, they couldn't keep sending her the calls. She couldn't do both at once. It was impossible.

There was also the issue that she was worried her partner was one of the ones missing. She hadn't seen him in a day or so. Hadn't heard from him. There was too much going on for him to be gone, though. She needed him to be here. She needed his help, and his way of comforting without actually having to say anything. His brain, she needed that, too. The way he thought, he might see some kind of pattern here that she wasn't.

Jennifer stalked back to her desk and sat down, leaning back a moment, enjoying the peace of the phone not ringing. If she didn't need it for things, she would unplug it right now before another call could come through.

Jennifer had a stack of papers on her desk, files. She was going through them to assemble the best set of information she could. There were a lot of duplicated things here, and a lot of leads that had gone nowhere. She wanted the information that actually had something to do with the case to be easily accessible.

This wasn't just for her and Charlie, either. They'd found a third pair of eyes that would be good on this case. A pair of eyes that apparently knew what to look for on bodies and were used to solving cases that didn't have apparent leads. Jennifer had read what she could about this Dr Brennan without prying into personal things. She had looked up what kind of doctor she was and her case history. It was all very impressive.

She wasn't going to deny Brennan a chance to look at the broken leads, as it might give her ideas of what to look for, but Jennifer wanted them in a different file. This was the biggest thing to happen to the case since they'd found the giant man right before the City had gone still. A real chance at being able to discover little clues that she and Charlie might have missed because neither of them were trained in the way that this doctor was. They didn't know what to look for.

The file was filled with every picture of every scene that she had been able to dig up. Some of them were truly gruesome, but she thought that Brennan could handle it.

She looked at her watch. Where was Charlie, anyway? She had made sure to note the meeting on as many places as she could think of, even sticking reminder notes into his pockets. This was important to her. Not that it wasn't important to him, too. But she'd been so concerned over these murders for so long, she just didn't want any little chance to slip by unused.

Fresh from her escape through the broken window, Beauty all but fled the scene of the bar fight and headed straight for where she last saw the Police station. Jennifer Government, Jennifer Government, she repeated to herself, and as she ran into the upcoming intersection, she stopped long enough to note the cross streets, then added them to her litany of things to be repeated and remembered.

Heart still racing, throat still clogged with fear, she sped onward toward her goal. If she was reading the signs correctly and remembering her way around the City, she had but a few more turns to make. People were staring at this woman running breakneck through the streets -- but she didn't care. She'd left her savior in the middle of a mess, and her savior had asked for her help. Beauty wouldn't stop until she'd gotten Jennifer the help she'd asked for.

At the next corner, she turned -- and there it was, the City Department. She didn't slow as she raced for the steps, for the door.

Charlie wasn't sure what to make of Ted and the current state of smittenness with a ghostbusting young woman, even if "smittenness" wasn't really a word. He wasn't one to run from his problems, not in the most obvious ways anyway, yet he wasn't ready to face the many questions this whole situation could raise. He wasn't even sure if there was a situation to question or face.

He wanted his friend to be happy and find a peace within, but the detective also wanted his friend to do things legally and safely. Yet...

"There are always yets." He smiled at the woman behind the counter. The woman gave him a smile back only because she had no idea what he was talking about and had found that smiling was better than questioning, especially this man. "The fruit tarts look good. I'll have one of each, please."

As soon as he had walked in, she had boxed up one of the apple strudels. Charlie did like this particular shop, even if he attempted to try many shops and many fruity foods.

Fresh from her makeover with Pixie at the helm, Beauty bounded up to the door of the mansion she knew was Charlie's. And Ted's. And the Horse's! Her hair was streaked with pastel multicolors that managed not to clash with the wispy bit of pink and pattern that she liked the most of all the dresses she and her friend selected together. She wasn't completely sure of herself in this new look, but she was determined to try it. She lifted her hand and knocked, pleased with the jangling chiming sound the movement produced. Thin silver, bronze, black and gold bracelets settled back down against the delicate bones of her wrist when she dropped her hand again.

On that arm also hung a basket filled with fruit and croissants. Some of it was for Horse. Some of it was for her and Charlie (and Ted, if he happened to be a fruit eater...or croissant eater). The other arm was occupied with hugging Ted's stickered laptop against her side. She shifted her weight in the chunky platform heels she wore, then stared down at her toes. They'd been painted a candy pink. Wriggling her toes again, she speculated just how women had started the practice of painting their toenails. She would have laughed at the notion, back in Paris.

Then again, she'd never heard of bronzer before, either. Beauty sucked in her cheeks, wrinkled her nose, and stared at the door expectantly. Her lips felt sticky and heavy from the almost-clear, pinky gloss. The test, she thought, was how other people would react to what she looked like. If no one gasped, she was going to count it as a success.

Beauty realized she was a little nervous about how Ted and Charlie would react to her new look, under the buzzy excitement she'd felt with Megan. She shifted her weight again. Lifted a foot. Set it down carefully again. Platform shoes. She was getting used to them.

Charlie was on his own for the evening, and that could mean any number of things. This particular evening meant checking out a bar he'd heard about. Supposedly there was karaoke and fortune telling. He wasn't sure he needed his fortune told, nor was he all that sure he wanted to sing; but, he was curious. He gave in to curiosity and hoped he wasn't the cat in the box with the possible poisonous gas. Dead, yet not dead. That was a thinker.

He stepped into Caritas, his badge in a pocket not out to be seen, just always there. His off-duty piece stored at his hip under a light jacket. The blade was stored in his pocket. He didn't plan on doing anything with them, but he didn't go anywhere without any of it. He also was curious to see how a certain riotous type was doing. He knew Logan Echolls worked here; he wanted to know if the kid was still working and doing well. He knew this could end badly, but he wanted to know all the same.

The detective headed slowly toward the bar, pausing when he thought he saw someone with a horn? He knew some people liked putting things under their skin to give themselves an interesting profile. Everyone had control, for the most part, of his or her own body; if they wanted to augment, it was their choice, wasn't it? Even if he always thought that extreme augmentation was...extreme. Charlie wasn't much for extremes.

The City Hall was chosen because it held a room within it that was big enough to accommodate the droves of people that were sure to come. Plus, being inside space, there were no worries over weather that couldn't be controlled. The people could sit and listen and not have to try to hear past traffic or wind.

Even with the late notice, everything was done well before the scheduled start time, which Thomas was proud of. He was glad that the ones who were born here weren't entirely useless without him around. They were keeping their heads together, doing what needed to be done. Of course, it also could have been the fact that they believed Thomas was who he claimed to be, and with his presence there with them, they felt better about the situation they were currently in.

Thomas looked at the stage. That's where he would be standing, talking to the people he had brought here. He had no doubts that they would be the ones with the questions, the ones who demanded answers. He was ready. He could do this.

He sat in a seat hidden by a curtain, where he could still see the stage and the rows of chairs beyond, and waited.

Jennifer had been very bothered by what the City had done now. With her past dealings with it, she knew something was up, but couldn't figure it out. Her cop instinct also told her that something was very wrong, but again, she couldn't wrap her mind around it. It made her a little angry. Angry at the City, angry at herself.

Then, on top of it, the murders had started again. So there'd only been one, but it was absolutely the same suspect as it had been before. There were too many similar things. There was also a lot that was different, worse. So much worse. Jennifer hadn't seen anything so gruesome in a very long time. Time had been taken. Time and care. She felt there had been much suffering. She felt it was her fault, because she'd given up the case when the trail had gotten cold. If she'd just kept at it, maybe this person, this Arkham employee, wouldn't have died.

Frustrated, Jennifer pushed the papers forward off of her desk. She didn't care where they landed, she just wanted them the hell away from her.

And she wanted to call Dean. She hadn't seen him since the change in the streets. She felt like she could use a very good tumble.

While much of the City struggled to adjust to the sudden normalcy of the place, Beauty found returning to a simpler life downright refreshing. It was made easier, of course, by the fact that she was wealthier than she'd been since... since her father's failing business sent them into the countryside to make a more rustic living, she realized. Beauty had hardly cared for the money she was earning from her job at the bookstore. The City, she had to admit, did a very fine job of taking care of her needs, which were few. The bookstore... She'd been there for love, nothing more. Even now, she would prefer being curled up in the back room, examining the newest shipment of books before she shelved them.

But with the City no longer providing for her daily meals, the supply of food in her cottage diminishing, she was very grateful to have the time to go shopping for the necessities. That's what led her out onto Market Street on this sunny, brisk mid-morning, all bundled in a wool coat and scarf and mittens, basket looped around one arm. The wind was a little sharp, but as she hurried toward the closest fruit stand, she wrapped the length of her hair twice around her palm, then tucked the twist under the collar of her coat. There -- that was much better!

And she had to say, as she examined the loads of fresh fruit in crates before her, the City certainly sourced from fine orchards! Picking out a couple gleaming red apples and setting them in her basket, she turned toward a crate of pears. These looked nice, too! But what were these yellow, strangely shaped fruits? She picked one up gingerly and turned it in her hand. When one looked down the back of it, it looked like a starburst. How... strange... What was it?

Ted couldn't exactly say that he was upset that The City had stopped moving around. He'd never particularly liked that bit about this place anyway. He was, however, a little sad that he actually had to do the grocery shopping now.

He was also a little sad that he was the one cleaning up cat litter and horse poo.

But it was all evened out by the mere fact that he had a job now - an actual job. One that meant something and wasn't just teaching a class every once in a while or working on somebody's portfolio because he was bored and had nothing else to do.

And this particular evening, he was in good spirits because he and Charlie were finally getting to have that dinner that they'd been talking about for a long while. It seemed that they both finally had some free time - or rather, Charlie had some free time - and they could meet up. Since he had more than one really exciting thing to share with his housemate, Ted was really looking forward to the evening.

Charlie had left a note on the counter in the kitchen telling Ted a time and a place. Ted had done some research and discovered that the place was a little bit fancy, and so dressed accordingly. He'd debated for some time if he should bring something for Charlie, it might have been a man-date, but it was still a date, and finally settled on a card. He hadn't been able to find exactly what he'd wanted, so instead improvised.

The card said "CONGRATULATIONS" very big across the top in colorful lettering on a yellow background. It had a balloon on it that Ted sharpied to look like a chubby little batman. On the inside he crossed out the "It's a boy!" Statement and replaced it with "You're not Batman!"

He carried the card in his hand as he entered the restaurant looking for his friend.

Temperance Brennan glanced back at Booth as he headed out of the airport. They'd said their goodbyes. Indonesia was waiting for her to further investigate the interspecies hominid remains that could be a crucial link in the evolutionary chain. She turned and continued toward the terminal where her flight was getting ready to leave. She knew that she needed this break, not only from the Jeffersonian and solving crimes, but from Booth. She wouldn't be getting completely away from the Jeffersonian, though, not with Daisy tagging along. But they were both going for the same purpose.

The flight was long and Brennan read when she wasn't sleeping. Her First Class accommodations treated her well and she was comfortable. But she was relieved when she finally felt the plane touch down. She gathered her belongings and met Daisy at the door. She stepped out of the plane, fully expecting to set her foot down on the tarmac, but instead, she stepped out onto a concrete sidewalk with high rise buildings on all sides.

It was not Indonesia, but it was familiar. She sighed in frustration, not knowing how long it would be this time, and if she would ever get to examine those remains in Indonesia. She had her carry-on suitcase with her, and as she patted her pockets, she found that a set of keys, a bank card and a cell phone had appeared. It seemed the City had her again.

It had been a busy couple of weeks, but Jack knew he needed the extra help with the budget. So he finally took the time to call down to the police department and set up a meeting with Charlie Crews. He could have gone down to the police station, he supposed. But it would be better to have a private meeting without the chance of being overheard.

He'd done some checking into Detective Crews' record and he was impressed with what he'd seen so far. He seemed to be a fine police officer, and Jack could think of few better to serve as a reference, assuming that Detective Crews was in fact willing to vouch for Ted.

She wasn't sure what happened. One moment she was walking away from Doom, into the heart of Halo City, and the next she was in a place that looked nothing like where she'd been. The tech was all so much older. She'd run back around the corner to find no trace of Doom, the car he'd forced her to steal, or even the spot where the two had been.

Confused, Annie wandered for a while, looking at the cars that were not the same as she was used to, being bombarded by things that wanted to speak to her, not sure what she was doing here, not sure how to get back to where she was - but not sure she really even wanted to go back. It wasn't as if home had been the greatest place to live. She knew it, sure, but could this place be any worse? The only problem with this place was that she didn't know how she'd gotten here.

Hey.

Annie turned. She didn't see anybody nearby. She began to walk again.

Hey. Please. It wasn't precisely words, not like other people might understand them. More like feelings projected. More like ideas. But she'd been at it so long, it was like plain English to her.

This time, she looked down. There, on the ground, was a watch. It's face cracked, it's strap broken. Annie knelt down, the watch looked really old. Though, she supposed it could be somebody's favored antique. Something that their great grandparent had worn, and had been kept in the family. That would be really rare, though. She didn't think a lot of things like that had survived the war. Not a lot of people had survived the war. But, this place didn't look as if there had been a war. Ever.

Don't leave me here.

"What if they come back for you?"

They won't. He won't. He doesn't care about me. He saw me drop and left me. Please. I can be fixed, I'm sure of it.

"Let me see..." Annie didn't touch the watch, not yet. She felt as if she might hurt it more somehow. As if it were a human body and it's neck was broken, if she moved it, she might kill it. She closed her eyes and pushed away all the strangeness that had just happened to her, blocking out all the noise. Then she looked at the watch again. Internally, it appeared to be fine. Annie smiled. "You're right. It's just your face that's broken. And your strap."

She reached down to pick the watch up.

Jesse Custer. He wasn't that difficult to find, as he was in the book. Plus, Jennifer knew the exact address. Having a partner who was aware helped. Then again, finding someone was a police detective's job.

Detective Charlie Crews of the City Police watched the numbers change as the elevator went to the correct floor. He waited for the doors to open before he even bothered moving. It was an easily ambling walk as he made his way to the desired door. His movement was just as relaxed as his hand lifted to knock on the door. He absently thought about Jennifer and her cat; it'd been a while since he'd checked in on the alien tabby. He also needed to get fish for his own cat; she'd been so good lately.

Finally his knuckles rapped against the door. He unbuttoned his jacket to show the badge sitting at his waistband; it wasn't exactly a threat, just a reminder of who or what he was. Sometimes it gave him just the edge he wanted. He needed to know that this man was a good guy; he had to look after his partner after all.

Shadowcrest could supply her with anything she needed and some things she wanted, but one of the things it flat out refused to provide for her were shoes. Zatanna was all right with that since it meant participating in one of her favorite pasttimes. SHOPPING! As weird as the City was rumored to be, its shoe stores were amazing! It was a great way to kill an afternoon.

Coming out of the last store (she promised!) with her bags of leather treasures she spied a familiar face. Part of her thought she should creep off before he noticed, but most of her thought she should try to be friendly. Because that's gone so well with her here with anyone that wasn't Dinah. Oh well. If at first you don't succeed, try to humiliate yourself again and again.

She approached him with a small wave of shoe bags and a smile. "Hi, Charlie."

Lois had been working long hours at the Planet. A reporter was only as good as their last story and she hadn't had a good story in awhile. She needed something, and it was possible that some of the strange murders around Metropolis could turn out to be the next great serial killer expose. For that matter, she hoped that she could get to the bottom of it and stop whoever was behind those murders. It wasn't just about the story, though the thrill of finding the truth and exposing it in words was just as much of a pull as helping people.

It was almost morning when she rested her head in her hand. She was exhausted, and she could just close her eyes for a minute or two. With any luck, Clark would be into work soon-hopefully with coffee. And she was sure she could send him on a doughnut run. She was going to need the sugar rush after pulling that all-nighter.

When she jerked awake, Lois didn't immediately notice the differences in the bustling bullpen. She didn't immediately realize that there were subtle differences in the look of the basement, or that she didn't know any of the people rushing around.

"LANE! Get your ass in here!" Lois almost jumped out of her chair as a voice shouted at her from the editor's office.

She scrambled to her feet, frowning. That wasn't her editor's voice. Not by a long shot.

"Lane, I'm not getting any younger here," the voice barked.

Lois didn't need to be told twice. Well, okay, she did. She tilted her head as she started to really take in the surroundings, and the lack of Daily Planet logo on the walls. All the same, she hurried into the editor's office.

"Lane, you're a day late and a dollar short. The Baltar rally began ten minutes ago. Now get your ass down there and do the job I'm paying you to do."

Lois blinked in surprise.

"Okay, usually in dreams like this, I'm naked in front of the bullpen too," she muttered.

The stern-looking editor just gave her a dirty look and Lois sighed.

"All right, I'm going, I'm going. Not that I'll ever make it on time. Not in this sort of nightmare."

After yet another glare, Lois sighed and rolled her eyes and turned to walk out of the office.

She made it all the way through the strange newsroom and out on the street, where she attempted to flag down a cab. Unfortunately, it apparently just wasn't her day, or night, as she was still convinced that this was all just one of those dreams. Yes, she might have had quite a few dreams about being late for a story or about trying to get somewhere to follow a lead and not being able to. No less than three taxis passed her by, despite the obvious hand waving.

"Come on," she grumbled. "Who do you have to bribe to get a cab here?"

(Happens the same day as this)

Detective Charlie Crews didn't settle down at his desk right away. He had the feeling that they were about to have some discussion, and he probably needed to focus. It wasn't that he couldn't follow conversations with his partner, but he knew there were times she couldn't always follow him. Or more she didn't want to follow him because it would mean she would have to think like him, and that bothered her a little. He was trying, see?

He poured hot water into the coffee press with the gourmet stuff waiting in the bottom to steep. He opened the box of fruit tarts they had picked up on the way back to the precinct, placing one pastry each on the two small plates. He then went to the trouble of getting out forks and napkins before setting them on the desks. He had an apple type confection and had gotten her whatever she'd wanted. Then after placing a nice clean mug beside each desk, setting the coffee press between them with the sugar and cream, he finally sat down.

"So, what did you think about the bunny pants? Seemed a little too obvious for a magician, don't you think?" Charlie thought that was a good opening. He hadn't thanked her exactly for getting them back to the office, but then he thought buying her a treat and setting up snack for whatever tete-a-tete they were about to have seemed like a good apology/thank you.

The storm had turned everything topsy-turvy. With some of his fellow police officers, Charlie was out canvasing streets in hopes of preventing looting, what there could be of it. He didn't even understand how the City wasn't cleaning things up; hadn't there been a Godzilla attack once? He was pretty certain someone had said that that had happened. He like those other police officers, who knew he was a detective but let him help out anyway, weren't worried about what the City wasn't doing; they had to worry about the citizen's of the City.

The detective had left a message with Ted, telling him that the damage to their mansion was minimal, not that they really had to worry about up keep. Ted had a large some of money after all, and Charlie wasn't that concerned with what happened to what he possessed. Possessions were nothing in the end. He had called someone to come look after the trees though; the orchard needed to be tended.

Charlie then called his partner. He hadn't talked to her in a while, at least socially. They'd had a few brushes at work, but nothing that had them working together which was a little odd seeing as they were partners. He missed her. He thought he might have scared her after their last big discussion. In fact, he missed her enough to call her back after he got a report that some woman was locked in her house. While it wasn't murder, Charlie felt they could try to figure this out together anyway. He got her on the phone the second time he called, and while he headed over, he gave her the address and the situation.

It seemed that neighbors had noticed that some woman was screaming bloody murder, or just yelling really loudly depending on who was asked. She wasn't coming out, and she might be locked in. Being locked in a house was odd, seeing as most of the buildings on the street had lost windows and some doors to the storm. Yet, the house seemed to have weathered things rather well. That was a small mystery in itself.

The detective headed up slowly to the front door. If he were one to put much faith in movies, he'd say this was one of those places horror movies happened. It was rife with the mystique and creep necessary to pull of a good horror movie. Thankfully, Charlie chalked it all up to this being a house recovering from a storm, a very lucky house.

"Unless it's not." He stood a few steps from the door. "Could have monsters inside, but what self-respecting monster would be inside when there is murder and mayhem to be had? Unless it's not one of those monsters." He had to give this one a small think through. Eventually he would get to the door.