The Universe's Mixer

It was finished. Erik leaned back and let his hands drop to the desk. The last sheet of staff paper was gently drying. He watched the sheen of wet ink slide into slow matte perfection. The hazy swelling of the last few stanzas still resonated in his mind. A deep satisfaction curled inside him. It was finished.

Days had melted into weeks. The music hadn't cared. It came without pause, a voracious phoenix at turns devouring him in its flames and re-birthing him to die again in its embrace. His body protested the lack of sleep, the lack of sustenance, the lack of any amount of extended rest -- but it was all of it worth it. The composer stood at last from his desk and wearily tugged on the black gloves that shielded him from the rest of the world. His touch had taken on warmth these days, thanks in no small part to the surgery Hannibal performed to save his life. But the gloves were as much a part of him as the suits, the night, the music. To encounter the world without them was unthinkable. Besides, the ink stains on his hands would not come clean for a week at least. He could not endure presenting himself in any fashion that was not neat or tidy.

After having set himself to rights again, Erik began the long climb upward from his house by the lake in the deep cellars of the Opera House. When he finally surfaced, he was surprised to find that he'd arrived just for sunset. What was his wife doing now? After publishing their wedding notice, somewhat late, he'd kissed her soundly and fared her well -- with the promise of his return once the opera was complete. His intention was to go to her now, but not just yet.

Presents came first.

His car and driver were with Christine, as he'd desired it to be. Erik stepped out into the street just outside the Opera and began to walk down the street where he thought there to be a good array of gift shops. What did one buy for one's wife upon returning from a long absence? He paused before a flower shop and considered.

Logan wasn't purposely trying to avoid his girlfriend, though he was still trying to sort out his cravings. Blood and sex were tied so closely together that it was just easier to try to figure out some way to control that away from her. He also didn't know how to talk to her about it. Then again, that was part and parcel for the two of them. Sweeping problems under the rug until they exploded into the light seemed to be par for the course. Not that it had worked out all that well in the past, but Logan just hoped that he would get a bit of a pass since he was dealing with something that was so far outside of anything either of them had experienced before.

During the weeks of darkness, he'd taken to following her from a distance to make sure she stayed safe. Maybe it could be seen as stalkerish, but he knew what lurked int he darkness and he'd be damned if he let any of those things get to her.

He missed her though and he was sure that her patience was growing thin with the fact that there'd been little more than a text message and a call here and there between the two of them. So he stopped by her apartment with Chinese food take-out by way of peace offering. He just hoped that it worked.

Vampires.

A subject that Bruce had been curious about for a good amount of time, especially since he'd had that scuffle with one around the time he'd first arrived to the City. The fight itself had been quick, which was good, but he'd had to bring out the big guy and that was never a reason to celebrate. Lucky for him the vampire had given up and Hulk had lost interest long enough for Bruce to change back. They had gotten extremely lucky that Hulk hadn't decided to tear the city down at that point, and he considered himself fortunate to have not hurt the other creature more than one can actually hurt a vampire. Bruce wasn't the type to actively try to hurt anyone (even his irritating soon-to-be father-in-law) and he honestly wished the well-being of all creatures in existence, vampires or no.

Enigma's best friend was a vampire, for instance, Damon, so it wasn't like Bruce didn't have interactions with the un-dead from time to time, and though he kind of despised the idea of existing after death, he found the subject completely fascinating. It was sort of a love-hate relationship when it came to the subject of vampires, and Bruce wasn't entirely for or against the things, he knew he wouldn't have exposed himself to that type of a situation if he didn't have a beast inside of him that would prevent any such change. Basically, if he was normal, he might view vampirism differently, but since it was impossible to fathom the idea in the smallest of ways, Bruce couldn't help but find it a little disgusting. He supposed one could argue the fact that they get a second chance of sorts, a new lease on the life they'd had before with powers and strength that rivaled none. He just didn't understand why they couldn't act like the people they had been before.

Maybe it was because he'd never experienced it, and he had never really sat down to talk with any of them either. He was a scientist, after all, and research was definitely part of his job description.

That was how he ended up at the library, in the section on vampires.

There seemed to be shelves and shelves on the subject, which was both good and bad, considering everyone seemed to have their own opinion on what was what in the world of the undead. He was going to have to take the time to sort through all of the shelves and get to the real truth.

This might take a while.

The news report about Fred was extremely unwelcome. Jo instantly tried to call Dean and Sam and left messages for both. Then she tried again.

And again after she'd gotten into her truck and driven down to see what had become of Angel Investigations.

She also tried Fred's phone, trying not to panic when she got no answer. The news reporters had said that she was presumed to be dead. Not that they'd found a body. Not that they knew for sure.

The thought of losing someone that she'd worked with, that she'd considered a friend... it hurt. Jo didn't have many people that she trusted in this City and she couldn't stand to lose any of them.

She didn't realize right away that the sun didn't go down when it was supposed to. In fact, a few hours passed before she realized that it was 9pm and still as bright as if it was noon. She'd been running all over town trying to find what she could on what had happened to Fred's place and to Fred. Now she pulled her truck over and got out. She looked from the sky to her phone, as if doubting that the time on her phone was wrong somehow.

Veronica sat in the library, a serious stack of books on her right, a puzzled look on her face.

Since finding out that Logan was... well, all she could think about was that awful 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' movie she'd seen as a kid, and the phrase 'blood sucking fiend from beyond the grave' coming out of Luke Perry's mouth, and she knew that that wasn't helping anything.

So, she'd grabbed a copy of Dracula. And some books by Anne Rice. And currently, her face was buried in a book by some Mormon lady about vampires who sparkled in the sunlight. But one of them was dating a human, so she kept reading.

But not without sarcastic snorts and comments every five to ten minutes, depending.

Finally, mid-sentence, Veronica closed the book in disgust. "This is such crap," she said, to no one in particular.

Logan could avoid like the best of them. He was good at self-denial, self-deluding... yeah, usually he was good at drowning his sorrows only that wasn't exactly an option anymore. Not unless he found a drunk person to feed on. Which he certainly had done a time or two, but his issues with self-control in regards to alcohol seemed to translate into looking for that 'buzz' in a somewhat different way as well.

When it came down to it, there was only so long he could postpone telling Veronica about his new status of being technically dead. Or undead as it were.

He was scared out of his mind that he'd lose her again. It seemed he was always on the edge of losing her and this situation was no different.

All the same, he finally manned up and worked up the courage to drop in for a visit.

The device in his pocket was complicated and strange, but it had been flashing with a 'message' -- and the 'message' gave an address. And when he touched the address, it brought up a map with a red dot that moved when he did. If Zoe was at all right, perhaps this was the next step.

Agreeable Apartments. He stopped across the street from the sign and tried to fathom what the buildings would look like inside. Everything seemed strange and different - even the buildings. He wondered just what he was supposed to do, here. Was this where he was supposed to live?

There was only one thing to for it -- find out. Christian straightened his jacket, tugged his hat a little more firmly over his crown, and started to cross the street.

Veronica was too busy with her internship to notice that many people were missing, ironically. She hadn't heard from Logan, but she'd taken to forgetting to charge her phone battery, and she was never big on keeping tabs like that, anyway. Not since that time she'd tracked him to a poker game. Live and learn.

She did know that enough people were gone for her department to be considered short-staffed, so she was basically living at work, going home to sleep a few hours, and returning. She wasn't pleased and felt like hell warmed over.

It figured that just as she settled into her desk after a late dinner break, her phone rang.

There was utter silence on the other end for a few seconds, not even breathing.

"Mars," she said. There was exasperation in her voice.

The case file for the murder was on her desk, open, and crime scene photos were scattered everywhere, from her cubicle walls to the floor around her desk.

"I have some information about a case I believe you're working on," a male voice said.

Veronica pressed her lips together in something that resembled a grimace, pushing a blond hair out of her face. The voice had a trace of something she could not quite place.

She'd believe the information was relevant when she heard it.

"I believe I know who committed this crime," the voice continued.

That got her attention. Veronica rolled her chair backwards and got out a tape recorder. It sat just at her left hand, waiting.

"Okay, well, do you wanna share this information with me sometime before I retire?"

Another second or two of silence.

"It was a woman. Long dark hair. Pale. Big eyes. Extremely graceful. Approximately five feet four inches, and no more than 110 pounds," the voice said.

"Sir, I'd like to record the rest of this conversation," Veronica said, hand reaching for the recorder.

"I would much rather you did not. I am sending a sketch of this woman to your office. I am confident you will find her."

"I need to know why you think this woman did this. And... why you haven't come forward before. Were you there? Did she see you? I need more information than just your description."

The voice sighed. "Ms. Mars, is it not simply enough to know that you've got your woman, and you and you alone have been able to get this information?"

She was shaking her head, though no one was there to see it. "No. I need the pieces to fit."

"I can say only that I am an... inadvertant... witness. And I did not come forward before because I did not wish to."

The line went dead. And just as it did, the fax machine beeped and hummed and made it clear that the drawing the voice was talking about had arrived.

( She rolled her chair back, still slightly flustered, and went to retrieve the fax. )

She laid the picture on her desk, sure the woman looked familiar, and picked up her phone, waiting for Lois Lane to answer.

Veronica wasn't exactly the girliest of girls, but since finding herself stuck in the City, she was really missing her female friends. Especially Mac.

Her interaction with female people had been limited to work, and to one lunch with Lois Lane.

She needed people to hang out with that weren't in law enforcement, and weren't Logan. And hopefully she wouldn't ruin their lives.

Veronica left work and headed to a bar to grab a drink, thinking about all of this and looking around the bar for other women her age. There weren't many, but there were a few. It was a Tuesday, so this wasn't the big drinking weekend crowd, just people on their way home.

She took a seat next to a girl that looked a little older than her, maybe, with dark hair and big eyes. Once she'd ordered her drink and convinced the bartender she wasn't 12, Veronica said hi.

In her best, non-crazy, non-stalkery way.

Here was hoping she wasn't anything like Parker.

It was 'date night' for Logan and Veronica. Which meant that he had the night off from Caritas and he'd actually been able to pry her away from her case long enough to watch the Big Lebowski and eat some takeout. Logan hadn't seen a whole lot of his girlfriend lately, so he'd actually made an effort to clean up the discarded beer bottles and pizza boxes so his apartment was presentable.

Man, he missed having a maid or at least room service.

Unfortunately, those days were behind him which meant that his apartment usually looked like the typical slob's bachelor pad. Which meant that it had taken the better part of an hour to get it looking more like... a slightly neater bachelor pad.

The food had already been delivered, which meant he was just waiting on Veronica. He was already hoping that he could distract her from the movie after they'd had the chance to eat. Especially since they hadn't seen that much of each other lately. Hey, he'd missed her and all the things that went along with seeing her on a regular basis.

The investigation was going pretty well.

It was tiring, and Veronica really had expected that. She was an intern. She did a lot of grunt work that was beneath her. Some of it really wasn't, but she thought it was. And that did a lot to color her perception of it.

After Christmas with Logan, it was back to the office and pouring over crime scene photos. Veronica was running out of puns.

There'd been a new lead, one she was hoping to check out this afternoon. Veronica would be heading back to the crime scene, just to do a once-over, then back to the office. She'd been to that damn tree more times than she cared to count.

There was a press release sitting in her in-basket that she hadn't seen yet. Veronica knew the press agent was fishing for things to feed a hungry bunch of reporters who really wanted to print more on the story.

Just as she picked the release up, and started to curse, Veronica's phone started to ring. The phone on her desk.

"Mars," she said. It was both a greeting and a question.

Logan didn't usually like Christmas. Christmas at the Echolls household had involved big showy parties where everything was over-the-top and everyone looked the other way while his dad had snuck off with half the female guests at the party. Then there was the actual day of, which usually involved presents (the good) and fights, generally of the particularly nasty kind that Logan preferred to repress.

Repressing was always good.

All his dislike for Christmas aside, he knew that Veronica did like Christmas. He also knew that this was her first Christmas where she didn't even have the option to celebrate with her dad. While he couldn't literally relate to missing a father, he knew how close Veronica was with her father and he knew that this time of year might be hard for her.

Which was why he was more than willing to celebrate Christmas with his girlfriend. He was doing well at Caritas, though not nearly as well as when he'd been living off the trust fund. All the same, he was doing well enough to get something nice for her.

So he showed up, right on time, at Veronica's apartment and pushed the buzzer to be let in.

Veronica was glad she was nuts enough to carry around a flashlight in her bag with her laptop.

She was out checking on a few facts with the police department about that murder she was dealing with on an intern-like basis. She'd gotten out the doors of the department when everything went black.

EVERYTHING.

The streetlights went out, and when they did, Veronica heard a car's brakes screech, and then what sounded like a huge crash. Car alarms followed. She sighed, looking up as lightning lit up the sky. She was gonna get soaked getting home, and a taxi looked like a bad idea.

She grabbed the flashlight out of her bag, a big mag light, and started walking, blond hair already getting plastered to her head. At least she'd worn boots today. With a slight smile on her face, Veronica found a puddle and jumped in it.

Of course, that was around the time she realized there was someone nearby, watching. That was okay, though. She was a huge dork. And she had a tazer and mace in her bag.

Deacon wasn’t a foolish man. He didn’t let his guard down around people he didn’t know, and he never drank blood unless he was holding a limp body or owned the bloodbank it was from.

So how exactly he’d ended up lying on what appeared to be a bed, in a strange room, was a complete mystery. Leaning up on his elbows, he looked around the room. Clean, crisp white bedcovers over crimson sheets, minimalist monochromatic furniture, and his clothes laid out over a chair. Yeah, this definitely looked like a place he would live.

But he’d be damned if he could remember ever being here before in his life. The last thing he remembered...standing in that temple, stench of dust and dried blood in his nose, the feel of Blade’s blood dripping down his face...and then nothing.

Maybe it hadn’t worked. Maybe something had happened, and he’d found his way here. Wherever here was. Sitting up, he slid out of bed, pulling on the pants that lay ready. Shirt on, sleeves cuffed to just below his elbows, and shoes. Now he felt ready to face whatever was out there.

He could tell the apartment was empty, at least. And as he walked around, he knew he lived here. Could smell it. Hell, he could tell just from the way everything was decorated. This place wasn’t too bad. Bit of a stepdown from the penthouse, but that he could live with. There was a cellphone sitting on a desk in the living room, but the contact list was empty. He tried Mercury’s cell...nothing. Quinn...nothing.

Looked like he was on his own. Shrugging on a black leather jacket - his, he remembered the scuff mark on the sleeve, the faint scratch next to the collar where Mercury had caught the leather instead of skin when she'd tried to scratch him in a rage - he slipped the phone into the inside pocket. He patted the coat down, trying to work out if he had cigarettes...nope. Well, at least that gave him a reason to venture outside. It looked like the sun had just set, and while he didn't recognise the skyline, he knew going out into the streets was the only way he was going to find anything out.

after this

Early in the morning, the phone on the desk in Veronica Mars's apartment starting ringing. And it did not stop. Shortly after, her cell phone started ringing and did not stop. Bleary eyed, Veronica answered her cell phone, checking the number beforehand. She did not recognize it.

"Ms. Mars?"

She yawned and stifled it. "Yes, who's this?"

"Ms. Mars, this is Daisy over at the City's field office. We've got your name in our system as a former member of our summer internship program."

"Oh, hi, yes, that'd... make sense."

"There's an investigation we'd like you to be a part of, assuming you're interested in continuing your Bureau training."

"Definitely."

There was some typing on the other end of the phone line. "Please bring your Bureau I.D. and also your P.I. license when you come in. Also, I know it's a weird question, but if you showed up here with a gun, you're allowed to carry that, too, as long as the Bureau issued it."

"Yeah. Okay."

"Thank you, Ms. Mars. Please get here as soon as you can this morning. Ask for me in reception and I'll get you where you need to go."

Veronica thanked her and hung up. She took the world's fastest shower, texted Logan something gleeful about the good turn of events, and hurried out the door.

When she arrived at the building the receptionist directed her to, she found her and showed her her trainee badge.

"Hi there, Ms. Mars," Daisy the receptionist said. "Have you ever worked on a murder investigation?"

Yet another night at Caritas was winding down. Logan still hadn't quite gotten used to the elaborate make-up and prosthetics worn by about half the clientele, and by his boss. He really wasn't sure what to make of the posted rules referring to vampires with souls and trans-dimensional ejection for not tipping, except to conclude that Lorne had a strange sense of humor.

For that matter, Lorne himself was a little strange. Nice and a lot of fun to work with, but not exactly like anyone Logan had ever met.

He absentmindedly wiped down the counter with a bar rag as he waited for the last of the patrons to finish their songs and drinks and shuffle out. He did his best not to wince at the particularly bad rendition of 'I Will Survive' currently being... well, performed was too kind a word for what it was really.

It was a typical day for Jesse Custer. He moved about The City, watching out for things he could help with. Seeing if there were any new faces about. Occasionally playing with the stupid fucking phone thing that The City had given him. Occasionally even doing the right thing with it. He had breakfast in a diner and lunch in a diner. It didn't compare to Zoe's cooking, of course. Nothing compared to a nice home cooked meal. But Jesse just wasn't the kind of guy who spent a lot of time doing his own work in the kitchen. There were simple things he could do, eggs, bacon, pancakes for breakfast and sandwiches for lunch. But sometimes it was just easier to eat someplace else. Besides, it meant that he didn't have to clean, either.

He was currently standing outside said chosen lunch establishment, lighting his post meal cigarette. He looked in the direction of a couple of young guys who were having an argument about god. He shook his head.

"May not be no God here," He said to himself. "But he existed at one time."

Not to mention there was, well, himself. Maybe people didn't pray to him and ask him to bless their dinners and watch over their sick grandmas, but there were people here who knew very well what he could do. People who trusted in his abilities. Maybe one or two who revered him. Just a little.

He turned to walk from diner and continue on his random path through The City and came face to face with a blonde. At least he didn't actually run into her like he had Castiel. Didn't do much good to be God if you couldn't so much as tell when another person was walking toward you.

"Scuse me, darlin" He gave her a smile and waited for her to go around so they didn't end up doing that stupid dance trying to get by one another.

After some serious thought, Veronica took out an ad in the City paper and put up a web site Mac would've been sort of proud of. She still intended to get back to FBI work, if she could, but for now, she needed money, and she'd take the cases she could get as a PI.

Mars Investigations was back. Only this time, it was hers, and not her dad's.

Her first bite for a case left her with some interesting flashbacks to 'Ghostbusters': the librarian thought someone was trying to scare her to death. Apparently there had been some pranks and some... poltergeist-like things happening in the place. Could Veronica hang around there, see if there was anything going on?

Yes. She could.

So now, at 9 on a Thursday night, she was sitting in the fiction section with a flashlight, her camera, a taser, and a candy bar. Waiting for something to happen. The library closed at 6:30. It was quiet, and she'd had plenty of time to look around. It was much bigger and much more impressive than the one she worked in at Hearst. There were some glass cases here that were... really, really disturbing. They weren't what she was here for, but she couldn't help looking at them and wondering about them. Logan's surfboard? Here? Lilly's plaque? That was hanging in the foyer area of the... she guessed museum was the word... wing of the library. And then there was the case full of medical drawings, with a name on them that really scared her. Hannibal Lecter? An eye in a jar? What exactly was going on here?

She'd get to the bottom of this.
Once she figured out why she was hearing footsteps.

When Veronica got home from the ball, she looked at the little box that they'd given her. The instructions said to fold the paper... and a wish would be revealed.

After the weird time-and-space travel-filled evening she'd had, Veronica was okay with a free wish.

She sat down on her bed, high heels off, now, still in her beautiful green dress. And she started folding.

The paper made a tiny cup, and when she finished folding it, words appeared on the side.

I Got Baked in Ensenada


Veronica smiled. Lilly.

She'd missed Lilly all night, too. She'd have loved the masquerade. She'd have been the belle of the ball. She picked the paper cup up, turning it in her hand, completely focused on it.

"I thought I told you you were red satin."

Veronica blinked. Her focus shifted.

Standing in her bedroom, dead center, stood Lilly Kane. "I mean, the green's nice. Very... sleek. But I think you're more of a red."

Veronica couldn't do anything but blink and stare.

"Is that all you got?" Lilly pushed her long hair behind her ears and sat on the bed next to Veronica. "Really? No, 'oh it's great to see you? No 'I missed you?' No--"

Before Lilly could finish Veronica was hugging her. She was real. She was real and she was here and she was alive. And Veronica was crying quietly into her shoulder.

Lilly hugged her back. "So what's been going on?" She pushed Veronica away gently, with a slight smile. "I mean, since I died I'm not really up on everything."

"Uh." Logan. She couldn't tell Lilly about Logan.

"Do you have anything to drink?" Lilly was up and heading to the kitchen.

And Veronica thought she was either dreaming or still in the asylum. There were cupboard noises, and pouring noises.

Her dead best friend, the girl whose death had changed Veronica's life completely, was standing in the kitchen, getting glasses of wine.

Veronica followed her. "Lilly. How...?"

"You wished me here. You wished, I'm here. I don't know how it works, really."

Veronica gulped. "Is it permanent?"

Lilly made a face, twisting her lips, thinking. "I'm not really sure. I know... I was somewhere. I was resting... and now I'm..." The face turned a little pained. "I'm here."

Please continue your ball threads here

With everything in full swing, the waiters and waitresses were moving about people like ants. Able to sneak between groupings without bothering anybody, constantly in motion, trays balanced perfectly on one hand. As if they were in a choreographed number.

The sounds of chatter could be heard in the room, above the clinking of crystal glasses and silverware, adding a strangely calming ambiance to the whole scene. The music played on, as if the band would never tire.

Here and there, party favors were being activated, used, sometimes confusing their recipients, other times bringing great joy.