The Cats Came Back The Very Next Day


abby2_icon.gif bebe_icon.gif cat_icon.gif felix_icon.gif teo_icon.gif

Scene Title The Cats Came Back The Very Next Day
Synopsis Felix gets another piece of the puzzle, Bebe makes a brief appearance, Cat and Teo sit down and discuss Moab with Abby as well as the next step, which is something they don't know about yet.
Date April 16, 2009

Old Lucy's

Old Lucy's has a vibrant and lively feel to it, from the dark wooden floors to the shady crimson walls lit up by neon lights and many times, the flashing of cameras from the oft-crowded floor. The mirror behind the bar reflects prices of various drinks, bottles lined up, as well as the entire saloon as seen from the bartenders; bolted-down stools line the other side, and there are loose tables and chairs placed all around, though many times they find themselves pushed back for more space within the center of the saloon. A few speakers are placed at strategic places and around a raised stage to the far corner from the bar. Above the counter, an obviously well-used bar is hung; it is this that the girls working will use should there be dancing, which is one reason many patrons choose to come aside from the drinks. Across the bar and near the back, there is a door that leads to the owner's office and just inside a stairwell that leads a apartment on the floor above the bar.

It's a scene that has happened before and likely, quite possibly will be coming again. Abigail's at the bar. Doctors appointment come and gone, Bar's opened, it's a quiet time right now. The redhead dishing up pints of beer to people as they wander up to the bar, wipe her hands on a rag and place and order of food into the bar computers. Hair back in a ponytail, short sleeved shirt, with wonder woman in a vintage print across her chest. The music's playing but not overly loud. That's going to come later. It's fate almost as the same Tom Waits song that played at the feds departure last night, cues up across the speakers and the cigarette ravaged voice rasps across the speakers.

Fel, like old Tom, likes his town with a little drop of poison, clearly. Because god knows, why else would he still be in New York, after all he's suffered? Fel's in work clothes - the generic gray suit, at least. He looks tired and weary, as he comes wandering over the scuffed floor to where Abby works.

"I was giving you another hour to come in, before I was about to call and see when my post-trouble interrogation was going to come" She's a smidge perkier today. Her drugs must be really kicking in, or so she thinks. Little does she know that it's Aaron really. His seat is empty and Abby makes her way over to his side of the bar. The redhead recovered visually from her ordeal the previous month.

"I trust you," he says, simply. "I do. But I'm terribly curious as to what you're doing and why when it comes to Eileen Ruskin," Fel drops into a seat on the bar, props his elbows there, eyes her patiently.

"She's a friend. We fed birds with each other a few times" Abby answers, a giblet is incoming, gathering the ingredients and assembling it. "I don't care who she is, what she did. And no, she's not here, but thank you for respecting my place of work and not dragging her off" aka, thank you for letting me burn that favor. "Why did she think you were dead?"

"Apparently, I was," Fel says, dryly. "All the way dead. Not mostly so. But there is a Miracle Max in New York, and he revived me. How and why, I don't know," He splays long fingers in a 'who knows?' gesture.

Abigail tilts her head then holds out her hand. You know what it is she wants. "This ones on the house, no favors. Just so I can check" There's so very few people in the bar and most of them minding their own business frankly, she's not worried.

Cat has arrived.

And Fel obediently settles his hand in hers, brows arched enquiringly. This should be ….interesting? He ignores the gimlet, for the moment.

The door whimpers open, hinged joints protesting like an arthritic old man, boots thudding floor in percussive cadence, the pallid stain of still-winter afternoon sunlight flattening out the edge of Teo's profile into flat bicolor. He doesn't look altogether well, which isn't altogether unusual for him, though he got around to shaving and showering African dust off him at some point over the course of the past few hours. He's sunburnt, visibly hackled, but no longer dehydrated.

And he has company. "Buy you something to drink?" he inquires of the lawyeress beside him. Phoenix's upper tiers arriving at Old Lucy's together is rarely a casual coincidence, but if they were obviously here about business, they would be in a different line of work.

No verbal prayer, just a silent one, spoken inside her head as blue eyes look towards the counter, head bent low. Her evolved ability flares to life near the end of the prayer because there is supposedly something to heal. Should be something to heal. Abby opens her eyes, a puzzled look in her eyes. Another half minute as Teo and one would suppose cat are making their way in and Abigail is blatantly staring at the federal agent, swallowing harshly as she ramps up the healing, testing something.

No. No, she's feeling it right. The sinkhole right where Felix's heart is. The redheads hands tightens around his. "Where… did you die….?"

"Stout would be good," Cat tells Teo calmly. That the two of them just happened to co-locate here for their first direct contact since the battle at Moab isn't let on, she seems perfectly calm. There could be, after all, people inside not needing to be privy to any inkling of said operation. "Thank you."

Her eyes travel the interior in time to spot Abby with hands on the Federal agent and praying. Not a word is spoken to disturb either of that pair; she instead simply heads for an open table.

"Somewhere on Staten, or so I am told. I don't remember it," Fel says, gently. "Why? You can tell, can't you?" he says, cocking his head at her.

Teo magically appearing next to somebody on the sidewalk is rarely an entire coincidence, but he gets a little worse at explaining himself with every passing month and he doesn't bother now. Nodding at Catherine, he marks the table she's moving off to before he puts his hands in his pockets. Shrugging his shoulders into a hangdog slouch, he stalks up behind the Fed and his conspicuously wide-eyed hostess at the counter. He isn't eavesdropping. Not exactly. He's listening, looking, with as much subtlety as a fencepost.

"I couldn't have saved you even if I tried" Is the near quite whisper, her hand pulled back from Felix's like she's been burned. It's the same as her tongue, and those two spots in her thigh. Deckards eye. That never healing sensation that just absorbs what she gives. The healer's eyes flicker behind the FBI agent, Teo there, followed by Cat further back. "But I know who did and you won't find her Agent Ivanov. She is on Staten Island last I knew. What do you guys want to drink?" The last for Teo.

Her eyes glance toward Abby as she sets down the guitar case and backpack, leaning the former against that chosen table just before settling into a seat at it. Cat, having already voiced her taste to Teo opts not to speak it again. Instead she just shows the healer a mild smile of greeting and goes about reading a copy of the New York Times brought with her.

She's never treated him like a leper before. That's the worst of this. Fel just peers at her for a moment, rather nearsightedly. He knocks back the gimlet absently, far faster than it deserves. "Do you. Any idea -why- she'd bother?" His tone remains offhand. He's ignoring Cat and Teo both, for the moment.

The Sicilian's eyes sharpen discernibly when Abby forms her answer, a faint line etching into his brow. She knows who did it. Staten Island. He's heard of her: the other healer, the other one Logan had, though God knows if she was kept in any comparable capacity.

That's dimly alarming in a way that makes him glad that it isn't really his problem. "Stout for the lady. Pint of whatever you have on tap for me, grazie," Teo answers his friend, ineffably polite. He turns his head to crook Cat a smile as if to reassure her that her order was in the process of being filled, though she's right there and very well heard for herself.

Stout, something else. Abby's grateful for the order, a hesitant smile for Cat as she goes about filling the order. 'Maybe Agent Ivanov, John Logan wants to call in a favor, because she works with him" That might explain the look on her face and the uncomfortableness. "Don't get shot. Because whatever she does, it's a sinkhole. It sucks up gods gift. It's like my tongue. Her name is Mu-Qian. She's Wu-long's wife" The stout poured, followed by random beer from tap for Teo and Cat, money refused from them.

Her eyes are on the newspaper in front of her, eyes scanning the print and committing it to memory, her features not reacting to what's conversed about, but Cat does hear. She is patient, time for sharing what she has in mind will come soon enough. No money was offered to be refused, following that point. Perhaps she thought Teo's offer covered him paying, or it would be otherwise unnecessary.

Fingers turn the page when an article she's reading comes to one of those annoying 'continued on page x' spots and she has to go there to finish it then come back to the original page.

Bebe has arrived.

Yeah. Fel's no more comfortable with that idea than Abby is. "Interesting," he says, quietly, leaving his empty glass. "I owe Logan no favors. Not in the playbook," His tone is flat, unrevealing.

Did someone just reference John Logan? As if on cue, one of his so-called 'agents' appears to magically manifest in the bar as the afternoon crowd sorts and spreads out just so. See? There. Just there. It's suddenly Bebe, seated alone near the wall.

Resurrection is Jesus' trick, and now the dead demon's old lady. This disturbs Teo on several levels. The back of Felix's head warrants a troubled squint. He accepts the drinks, frowns at the young healer when she refuses to accept his cash, a certain, stubborn element of Later, then, in the crook of his brow. "You do owe Eileen one," he remarks, abruptly, turning back to Cat. "For helping us find Abigail. Don't forget.

"You're not on Avalon anymore." He's almost glibe saying so, though his choice of words is at odds with his tone and the lined and sun-reddened wear of his features. He sits Cat's mug down just beyond the edge of her newspaper, drops himself into the chair beside her, and automatically reads along.

"Not in your playbook. It will for sure in his" The redhead is not accepting the Italians money. just a glance between the two. "Play nice. Both of you. I'll not have this place disturbed. And no, I'm not burning another favor" Wipe the counter, wipe the counter. "You know who, and now you know where to find her. How she did it…" Well, some things are going to remain a mystery, but Abigail's biting her tongue, literally. Just a little.

Blue eyes flicker towards Bebe though, when she suddenly is there in the bar and starts around the counter, rag thrown down. "Out" More than a little grumpily. "Out, get out. I won't have anyoneof his in my place, and you can.. go fucking spy for him elsewhere, do you understand me" The redhead hisses at the little whorephan Bebe.

It's not Fel's place. It's Abby's. But he lifts a hand to her, as if to calm that little storm of temper, noting, "I owe her, too, Abby. We'll be going," As if he'd brought Bebe with him. Perhaps he figures he has, in a way. "I owe Eileen nothing," he adds, over his shoulder. "That debt is discharged." Fel does keep count.

Was. Abby makes ridiculous noises at the place where Bebe was located. Apparently, somewhere between blinking into collective existence and perception and the conversation shift, Bebe blinked right back out again. There's night but an empty glass and a small wad of cash left in her wake. The wee (invisible?) hooker isn't a total waste of flesh, however; she at least had the courtesy to leave a tip. In change.

Bebe has left.

Her eyes lift when the pint of Guinness is placed and Teo sits, one hand moving to hand him part of the paper in a seemingly absent gesture. Stereptypically so, even; man sits at table with newspaper reading woman and she automatically offers him the sports page. Cat seems absorbed by it for the most part, not letting on that she hears anything said here which isn't directed at her.

Until, that is, Abby reacts harshly to someone's presence. She looks up then and trains her attention in that direction, but sees no one. Only the evidence someone had been there. Not a comment is made.

Cat just returns to reading.

Felix has left.

The sports page is accepted with a reflexive grin, and Teo turns his head to shift his gaze away from the columned text of her reading to check out the progress of football teams that he hasn't really followed in almost a decade. Sometimes he just— looks. Wonders. Remembers. All these new hotshot players he had never fought for, fewer and fewer managers whose names and reputations he can recognize.

This face hurts.

Closing his fingers around his pint glass, he lifts it to his mouth. Takes a long pull, caught on the end of an exhale, before he sets it back down and leas back into the chair. Rivets creak.

Bebe's table is cleaned up, Felix's seat and his cup cleaned up. The redhead working behind the bar as the two are gone and letting Cat and Teo have a few moments before she sticks her head into the back to call forth Brenda to take over while she goes on a break. The break just happening to be taken right at a chair that's dragged over to the other two, glass of swamp sludge in hand. "Your back" spoken to Teo and Cat. "Both of you"

Her eyes meet Teo's for just a moment as he takes the section offered, then Cat is back to reading for the short time it takes Abby to join them. The printed matter is set aside then, and her first words are dryly spoken. "We are."

She pauses a moment there, looking from one to the other, as the lyrics to a Grateful Dead tune fill her mind. "What a looong, strange trip it's been."

"Ciao, mia caro," Teo offers the bartender, though through some coincidence of distraction, he's looking at the swamp sludge when he actually speaks his salutation. He probably wasn't talking to the swamp sludge, however. The pale of his eyes flares briefly when he looks up again. "'Least we don't have to do it again," he grunts, optimistically as he can.

Not very. "Are you okay?" Newspaper hits table with a leaf litter rustle.

"That question belongs to you" One slender hand offered out to Teo. No verbal anything needed to get her other question across. He'll take it or he won't. "Eileen's above us. So's someone else. They didn't want to go to a house. They did a number on his face, but I'm trying to convince him to let me take care of it. Others show'd up?"

A quiet snort emerges as start to Cat's reply, eyes moving from one to the other. "Found myself suddenly in three places at once. West Prairieland, Colorado, Kansas, and Nebraska. Shot in shoulder and still bleeding, it was night. But I didn't spend all that time there unconscious, there wasn't enough blood for that. Comm gear still worked, though, got a message out and made contact, got home."

She doesn't appear wounded in any way now.

"Been working to sort things out since. Eileen being here makes one less unaccounted for person." By extension, that means some are still not located."

Silence settles in, Cat takes a brief mental consideration of how much to say, but Abby already knows there was an op. No need to conceal data.

"Gillian's GPS kicked in recently, she's somewhere in the city and will probably contact us when she feels the need." That seems to be the augmentor's style anyway. "Diego is safe, Monica too. A woman claiming to be Hiro's sister called me, gave me a message from him. It's unverified, but what I'm told says it's probably him. I estimate he's in Tokyo."

Then she draws a slow breath before pressing on. "Unaccounted for are Helena, Sergei, Al, Knox, Peter, Lucrezia, and Niki or Jessica Sanders. Not sure which one is driving the body, but I saw her near Helena."

It's only a sunburn, as far as Teo can tell: that can't possibly take too much out of the Southern belle's energy reserves. A squint at her face tells him that her energy reserves are doing all right today, at least, give or take a fierce wobble or pale pinch from the invocation of one John Logan's name.

After this hair-raising few seconds of scrutiny, he sneaks his large hand into her smaller one. It's a familiar heat and texture, leathered calluses and a fierce metabolism to rival the sun. "The someone else have a name?" he inquires, before lapsing into quiet to listen to Catherine's extensive field review. He had alternately heard and deduced much of that, but the final details laid down in stone are—

Unwelcome. Such is life. Teo closes his eyes briefly.

"Julien. He's been around before. He's good in my books. Friend of Isabelle's too" Which means he's safe, in as much that means anything to them. "Jessica was at Moab?" Well, that explains where the woman was. "Does Elisabeth know this? She's been looking for her, since she disappeared near after heading to Staten Island" Quiet takes the woman and a few moments later that sunburn is starting to slightly fade. Plus whatever other injuries the young man has.

"She and I have spoken," Cat provides in answer to Abby. "Isabelle is also unaccounted for." Her eyes close, she rubs her temples for a moment. "Things went south fast up on Green. One of those guys at first seemed electric, but that was only half right. Found out the hard way he's electromagnetic. The other one, who looked like a human mountain, he was like a tank versus popcorn balls. Then came the helicopter they brought from somewhere nearby and a bunch of guards shooting suppressant and tranqs from the roof. Sergei had Electromagnet negated until he got hit by a dart."

"Then Helena was up on Green, called out to me, I gestured for her to come my way so we could head for the transport. Jessica was near her, and Hiro came out. The air distorted, and the next thing I knew I was in some farmer's field."

Fortunately, Teo didn't have a lot of other injuries. Scratches, residual cellular damage throughout his system from falling impact, heat, dehydration. He heals over as gradually as Abby deigns to go, his face distracted, grumpy, or some cocktailed mangle of both. Maybe it's funny. Everybody else got out of Moab with bullet wounds, cracked ribs, brain damage, and the worst of his was a Kahalari sun rash. He forgets entirely to laugh.

"I think Peter lost control," he gruffs, cracking his eyes open. Liquid ink pupils contract, dilate again. "He was freaking the fuck out downstairs with Gillian there. I tried to stop him. It didn't fucking work." He wraps five fingers around his pint glass again, and downs another inch of the meniscus.

"Maybe it was a good thing you didn't bring me" Abigail's slow to murmur, taking in both of their words. Red skin tones down to it's proper hue, and she lets the hand go so he can carry on drinking, the redhead swallowing a chunk of the green sludge. "Are they maybe elsewhere, like you ended up cat, just not able to get ahold of someone?" or worse, dead. Abigail's baby blues flicker back and forth.

Her eyes rest on Teo for a moment prior to a nod of acknowledgment, agreement. "Getting his mojo back suddenly could have gone weird," Cat comments. Especially in the presence of an augmentor. She takes a long and healthy drink of stout. For whatever reason this panmnesiac lieutenant is partial to the dark brew with the creamy head.

"We're still looking, in any way we can," she asserts. Reports of John and Jane Does in hospitals or morgues, that sort of thing. "I call the results inconclusive. Evidence suggests the people we came for are all out of Moab, but to where, that remains an open question. I just know it didn't look like Hiro did anything. He wasn't touching anyone."

From there she drifts down the path of a recent memory. Talking with Elisabeth on the 12th, opening the envelope Cardinal gave her.

"Before the raid I was given an envelope by Cardinal, he said it had a piece of artwork in it. I didn't look at the thing, though. Hiro told me he'd seen all of those before and they were all vague, nothing useful. Opened it up a few days back, and now I have to wonder."

"It's a painting of Moab with a skull on the desert, and a Phoenix rising over the walls. But the oddest part is there are two Moabs, like a mirror image."

Rough knuckles go pop as Teo compresses them between his own fingers. One by one. It's bad for his health in the long run, or else thoughtless to those he couches his continued physical well being on, but right now the compulsion is wired in, taut with tension. He glances across the bar's few other afternoon patrons. "I saw the painting. It belonged to John Logan.

"It is too fucking vague. One location— split by God knows what.

"No specific faces, iconic and therefore interchangeable architecture. No way of telling whether it's another prison some other place, a depiction of equal probabilities, or if the phoenix is blowing a trail of skeletally malicious exhaust out of its fire-powered rectum which means we fucked everything up, between the missing and other escapees." His jaw tightens visibly, a vain and handful of cords standing out underneath his shaven skin.

Guiltily, his eyes flit to Abigail next moment. "Thanks," first. Then, "Sorry."

"Wait, there were … two Moab's in the picture?" Abigail's brows are furrowed, head tilting to the side somewhat as the thanks and the sorry are brushed off. "Did it rain.. at all, while you were there?" Obviously that's an important little bit of information to learn to the Healer.

"These things can sometimes be literal, or metaphoric, maybe a mix of both," Cat remarks. "One can't tell which often enough. I've seen some predictions happen, seen others not happen. Eve dreamt and painted the bridge that fell, Kazimir being approached by a wolf before it all came down. Never figured out what or who the wolf stood for. There was one, last autumn, that had plants growing in the midtown crater. One type I could identify, the other was an unknown species. Still is."

"Two Moabs, yes. But it didn't rain, in the literal wet sense. But… with the guards on the roof firing darts and the helicopter crew shooting bullets, that could be called metaphoric rain. What about it, Abby?"

It's difficult to base tactical decisions on metaphors. This fact may be accountable for perhaps 2% of Teo's bleary, scowling mood. He leans his jaw on his fist and continues to down his beer, his gaze penduluming between the women now.

More symbols. Plants, wolves, bridges, rain. Chopper-fire, he'd missed. Because he'd bulled his way through prisoners, putting a wall of bodies between himself and the Emergency Response Team operatives as he chased down to Red Level. The first of his mistakes that day, though certainly not the last.

"Eileen was wet. Like, rain wet. Not metaphorical" Teo might remember what Abigail's talking about. "She wasn't wet when she showed up here.. WHat kind of birds did she use?" There's purpose, there really is. Abigail looks between the two of them, hoping one of them has an answer.

"Ravens," Cat supplies as her stout is lifted. "She called up ravens." The dark brew is imbibed again and set down, her face taking on a look of confidence, determination. "Wherever the rest went, we will find them and get them home." Solemnly spoken, the voice quiet, but she will clearly brook no doubt on the issue.

Yeah. "Ravens." Such a murder of ravens.

Teo's face clouds faintly with recollection from around the rim of the beer glass, or else that might just be a response to Cat's conviction. Alternatively, the ongoing trend for the next month or so. Progressively darker and darker moods. It's a symptom of failure. The beer is all gone the next moment, clicking the table in a pale eighth note.

"We're going to have to do more than that," he remarks, but does not elaborate. Neither he nor Abigail would much appreciate him doing so with her present, he's sure.

"Was eagles" Not ravens. Abigail takes another mouthful of her sludge, turning the cup 90 degrees to the left as she puts it back down. "There was an eagle, it was going away, or too, one of those. There was fire, and electricity, explosions, everything was going up into the sky in pieces.. and the bird died, it was an eagle, But then, there was Eileen and she was wet, and it smelled like rain.. but she was in New York" And telling Abby not to touch her. She's leaving that part out. "what if.. your going back. A second time? Do you have pictures of Moab?"

"I've got photos," Cat replies curiously. "What's the source of all this, Abby? Who? I'm certainly not planning to go back there. The evidence suggests anyone we know of there got separated from the place." And then some. But, of course, she knows she can't verify none of them got re-snatched.

While not completely conclusive, the evidence is that. Evidence. Thin hope to cling to, but growing more and more painfully irrelevant with every passing day of their absence. "I want to know what Hiro thinks," he says, finally. "Presumably, the trick that blew us the fuck up was one Peter stole out of his bag. Makes sense he's our best bet at getting everyone back, then.

"That aside, Phoenix needs a next move. Which we'll talk about later." Though lacking the same resonance and strength as the note of finality in Catherine's voice, there's a hollow echo to Teo's voice that indicates that any argument thrown into it would be absorbed without impact, subsumed into some other whole, perhaps acknowledged but straightforwardly ignored.

He stares at Abigail anyway, waiting for her answer. Visions of the future, however infuriatingly abstract, offer a sense of inevitably, if not of purpose. Sometimes, they are almost the same thing.

'When your not near me, and I understand. I'm not phoenix" Abigail's fingers dance on the sides of the cup. "I know someone who can give you a glimpse of god's plan. He took my hand, after I asked him and we prayed. And I saw what I told you. I told Teo, that I wanted to go, but he said not to, that they needed me here. But, Eileen wasn't wet when she showed up and it was an eagle, not a raven. Maybe it wasn't Moab, but it made sense. Mr. Nakamura would be better to talk with he's more enlightened upon the nature of futures and such"

Oh, God. Hiro. She hasn't verified that one by actually speaking to him yet. It seems like probably him, Wireless said Hiro does have a sister Kimiko and the airline did verify a Kimiko Nakamura en route to Tokyo, but the rest of the conversation. The weirdness. "I'm hoping to see and talk to him myself as soon as possible," Cat tells them, "but him helping might not be workable. His sister says his ability was somehow switched. To flight." Her eyes close, she rubs her temples again for a moment.

"Who gave you this vision, Abby?"

Teo's head turns around so fast its stalk almost snaps in half, it seems. He's left to flinch abruptly, his finger gripping on the muscle strung down the line of his neck. "His ability got switched?" he repeats incredulously. "What the f— by who? Or— wh—" He's so surprised that his words abort into a hyphenated trickle of breathing. "Jesus fucking Christ," he enunciates again. "Okay. Find out what the fuck's going on with him and his sister, grazie."

As for the source of visions, God's anchor, Teo does remember, after a moment. Decides to save Abigail a couple breaths, the better with which she might sip her swamp sludge with. "Pastor Joseph, si? At your new church?" His voice slows as he asks for this verification. Thinking, with effort. He's fucking tired.

A red ponytail bobs as it's owner nods. "Who has nothing invested in derailing any of you. I promise you that" Abigail offers to Cat. "He doesn't even know where I work, anything. Pastor Joseph Sumter. My pastor at Guiding Light Southern Baptist. I don't think he even knows about Phoenix. I don't think he advertises what he can do, but he's gifted by god as well. He can't see what god shows, just the person getting the vision" She's not going to chastise him on language, Abigail's going to be nice on that count since he said a few less than he normally would, but her hand smooths over his and squeezes.

"That's one of the things that makes me say it's unverified this was actually Hiro," Cat informs. "But it is possible, I know of one person who reportedly passed an ability to another person. He was captured by the NYPD and taken away by either DHS or the Company. That doesn't mean he wasn't sent back out as an agent, or that there isn't anyone else who can pull off a transference. I really do need to talk with Hiro, his sister was given that message to pass along."

She isn't swearing verbally, but she certainly is thinking it. Lately it's just raining cats and dogs made of pure shit. There's a mental note made to soon go visit this Pastor Joseph at his church. Then it's back to musing about Tyler Case. It seems to fit, in the angle of a transference, but it also raises more questions she can't answer yet. Like who the flying ability came from.

But at the center of it all is her determination to see this all through, to find the people out of contact. She failed Dani, and that fact drives her to not fail again. This situation, messy as it is, isn't a total loss. Yet.

The clasp of Abby's hand is reciprocated, either gently or weakly, appreciative of the personal barrier broached as ever, a thumb on the soft hollows between the girl's carved china metacarpals. "I have to lie down for a few days," Teo says, somewhat more dully than he had when spitting curses seconds ago. Finding his center of balance seems to be the same thing as sinking it to the ground. "I'll see if Hana can check out this Joseph boy, and maybe…"

The Baptist God could tell him what to do, or else overhand some inspiration into his current dearth of direction. An unworded shrug seesaws through his shoulders. A creak of denim, and he rises, his fingers flaring once, farewell. "Eileen and Julian need to move out of here soon. This place has been on HomeSec's radar."

"They don't feel safe in the safe houses. Julian's a little twitchy about it. Eileen… She's acting weird. If you have some other place that isn't a ferry, then I can send them that way. Be better now. I don't want to burn all my favors with Agent Ivanov to keep him off of her" Teo needs to sleep a few days. Another silent prayer and probing healing, seeing if anything is going to take, if she missed anything. "You need some swamp sludge and Dr. Bianco dietary regimine"

"I've got room for them if they'll take it," Cat suggests quietly. "There's another technopath on the prowl too, Teo," she adds. "Go rest, take care. Hana will tell you about Robin Hood." She remains seated, speculative… pensive as she returns to drinking her stout.

A sneer flares briefly through Teo's features, though his back's turned by then, after a tactile brush thank-you for the last minute healing. He's fine. Tired, but in perfect health otherwise. His voice is as brittle as the wind clicking through a winter-stricken canopy. "Agent Ivanov arranged to clear her record if she helped out with John Logan. If he has any fucking honor at all, you wouldn't have to burn favors to keep him off her. Far as I'm concerned, he can fuck off and die.


"I'll ask about Hood. Vai con Dio," Teo tosses up a hand in backward wave, before fitting both into his pockets. The breadth of his shoulders flexes, once, before curving downward under the dense weight of a slouch, hangdog, a thug's great bold-font 'fuck off' sign posted on top of his head.

"I'll let them know. God bless Teo" Hand taken back as he's moving about, making to go. Abigail watches him leave, browns pulled down, frowning before she looks to Cat. "Where'd he surface?"

"I don't know," Cat replies as Teo makes his exit. "Just that it was some sort of red desert." She takes another long drink of the dark brew, lapsing into silent contemplation of angles, parameters, possibilities. There are things to do, people to find, mysteries to solve, and she intends to do so. But for right now, she will drink.

"He showed up. I can rest a small bit easier. But you know where I am, when the others surface" No if. When. "You want something to eat or something else to drink? I should get back. I'm only around to help open up, I have homework to do" Teo's glass collected and a napkin used to wipe where his pint glass had been.

"I've got food, thank you, Abby," Cat answers quietly. She seems a bit tired herself now with Teo gone. "I'm just going to sit and think quietly for a bit before I go. Has business been good, everything's gone smoothly here for you?"

"There's a company agent who's come in a few times" Abby offers up. "I probably should have mentioned it, but… she's with Brian. The missing Brian" Not so missing now. "He tried to pass himself off as Brian. But he wasn't rolling his eyes and sighing at me or lecturing me with bible quotes or trying to see how I made it through the night. I haven't seen her since the last time and he hasn't been in since the first time" Other than that. "There's a new person going to be playing music here. Aaron Micheals. If you could, or someone, look into him. Just to make sure" Because Abby's paranoid. "Other than that.. it's been running smoothly. Thank you, for that"

"You're welcome, Abby," Cat offers. The name is remembered, added to the whole list. "Take care." Then she returns to silence, finishing her stout before collecting gear and making her way out. Things to do, people to find, mysteries to solve.

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