Making a Start
Things had been so busy at the store, between a new shipment of gemstones and incense and an influx of customers, that Logan didn't even have time to read the paper. Not that he was one to pour over every single inch of print, looking for something out of the ordinary, but it was nice to start the day at work with a cup of coffee and a copy of the Sun-Times. It was a routine for the former Watcher, something he could look forward to even when things weren't going the way he wanted.

Though he was feeling a tiny bit better with each passing day, Logan had to be honest; things were still touch-and-go for him. He'd have days -- or moments within days -- where he felt perfectly normal. There were others, though, where the enormity of losing his girlfriend resurfaces, and the former Watcher would heave an exhausted sigh and do his best to push out the thoughts of Izzy. He'd have plenty of time to allow himself a moment of emotional expression when he got home at night; sitting behind the counter at Thoth's Library was neither the time nor the place for it.

But the store was empty for the moment, the calm before the storm otherwise known at the lunch rush. Sighing, the former Watcher dropped himself into the swivel chair by his desk, shaking his head and grabbing the newspaper. Yet another allegation of corruption against the mayor ... as weird as things seemed anymore, it was somewhat comforting to know horribly mundane things were still noticed.

After her lunch with Izzy, Michaela gave it a couple of days, then swung by Thoth's Library on the pretext of looking for a book about Tarot cards. She never got to that part of town unless she was working, and she waved at the uniformed patrolman as she parked her Toyota in one of the few designated spots near the McDonald's, then shut off the engine. Making sure to lock up, the former cop used the crosswalk, then climbed the stairs to the door.

She didn't see Logan when she first stepped inside, but she was also the only potential customer there. A watch check said it was ten forty-five, too early for browsers. Michaela studied the carefully-arranged display of incense near the door, looked at a few new releases on the bookshelves. She couldn't imagine what a place like this cost to insure.

Hearing the door open, Logan looked up from the paper. Setting the paper down and taking a sip of coffee, the former Watcher stood and emerged from behind the counter, his heart skipping a beat when he saw Michaela browsing the shelves. It wasn't that he'd had particularly fuzzy feelings toward the former detective -- though they managed to put a lot of that to rest the last time they met several months ago -- Michaela's friendship with Izzy gave Logan another unwelcome reminder of what happened.

Logan decided not to take that out on Michaela, though; that wouldn't be fair to her. There was even a chance she didn't know what happened yet. A slim chance, Logan realized, but it was there.

"Michaela," he said, hoping his smile appeared more genuine than it felt. "What brings you to this neck of the not-so-woods?"

"Looking for a book," Michaela said without taking her eyes away from the spine of the title she was currently looking at, Your Chakras and You. "A client is going to get a Tarot reading and have some kind of re-alignment done on their karma. I'm not sure how to really explain it, but they wanted a beginners' book so they could do some reading first. Have something like The Supernatural For Dummies in stock?"

It was true, after all, this was sort of a business call. She'd forgotten what it was like having to maybe tiptoe around a subject. "I saw your fan club finally went home," she remarked, waving towards the street at where the protesters had gathered so recently. "How's ... Avery dealing with it?"

"He's pretty much back to normal," Logan said as he grabbed a copy of Tarot For Dummies from the shelf in front of them and handed it to the former detective. He was secretly relived she opened the conversation with something else -- maybe he lucked out, and she wasn't here about Izzy after all. Logan wasn't sure how she'd react to that -- would she be here to express remorse over the end of the relationship, or would their previously contentious relationship result in a more ... confrontational reaction?

Logan didn't really care to find out.

"He wanted to quit when it was really bad, but he stuck it out," Logan added. "Things overall seem to be back to normal since the protests stopped; I guess everyone had their thrill and moved on when they didn't find what they were looking for."

She looked at the book in her hands, flipped open the front cover after glancing at the price tag. "I met him once, before it happened. He seems like a nice kid. Would you tell me if there was any truth to the rumors?"

She was regarding him placidly enough, knowing this was probably the last thing he'd expected. Showed what he knew. "That Watson article must have irked. Is it slander or libel when it's the printed word?"

"They are," he said of the rumors. "I'm not really sure how to explain it, but Avery's not a danger to anyone. He's ... if it weren't for the hours he keeps and the fact that I can't see him in the mirrors, I'd swear he was just another guy."

Logan rolled his eyes at the mention of Watson, the columnist from the Tribune. The former Watcher didn't really think much of what that guy wrote anymore, realizing that as a columnist, it was Watson's job to write extraordinary things to get readers' attention. Hell, if Logan remembered, one of the columnists at The Clark County Beacon told him that half the time, he didn't believe what he was writing ... he just wanted to get a reaction.

"Libel," he answered. "Watson's irrelevant, anyway. Not even a real journalist."

"Not like you, right?" Michaela deadpanned, then added, "I thought there was something off about him. Avery. But he did seem harmless enough. I guess even the undead can supervise themselves." She set the book down on the counter close to the register, waited a beat.

"I had lunch with Izzy a couple of days ago. She told me what happened."

And there it was. The thing Logan had silently braced himself for the moment he saw Michaela in the store.

He wasn't quite sure how to react to that; Michaela didn't seem all that angry at him, so maybe this wouldn't be as awful as he initially expected. Still, Logan hadn't talked to anyone about the breakup since it happened ... then again, that was because he didn't really have anyone to talk to about it. He got along well enough with Avery and Purity, but the former Watcher didn't like the idea of unloading his personal problems on professional colleagues. Lorne was an option, but the demon's part-time schedule hadn't afforded Logan many opportunities for conversation.

"Yeah," he said, averting his gaze to the counter. It hit him harder than he initially thought it would; apparently, take things as slow as needed only worked whenever actual emotions weren't involved. "Guess I should've seen it coming.

"But ... talk about blindsided."

"I think in some ways she might still be adjusting to being here," Michaela suggested. "New environment, new people. It's been less than a year. I remember when I first decided to move back home, and it took me a while to get re-acquainted with everything, no matter how familiar things might have been. It's probably not that different for her, despite whatever her former circumstances must have been. We didn't talk about it that much, she changed the subject and I let her. I'm sorry it didn't work out."

The ex-cop lifted her shoulders, thinking this was possibly the only personal conversation she and Logan had ever attempted to have. The circumstances for that could have been better too, but what could you do? "Are you all right?"

"Not really sure," the former Watcher admitted, resting his elbows on the counter. "I'll have these moments where I am, then there'll be others that are ... more difficult."

Surprised as Logan was that Michaela was reaching out to him to a degree -- their past and her friendship with Izzy being the main reasons -- he was relieved that she was offering condolences of a sort, rather than automatically villifying the bookstore owner and claiming that what Izzy did was the right thing. He actually caught himself smiling a little at the thought.

"I'd thought of that," he mused regarding the former detective's theory. "Though I think that's the hardest part. We didn't break up because of something someone did -- there's no one thing for either of us to point to and say, 'That's why we're splitting up.' I almost think it'd be a little easier if there was some blame to be passed around."

"Well, at least this way you can try to be friends later," she offered, knowing it was probably the lamest thing she could have said. "Nothing says the whole relationship has to end, just that things will be different. She doesn't have anything bad to say about you, just that the two of you aren't compatible."

She let a silence punctuate the sentence, then changed gears a little. "Seems like business should be picking up, if only because people won't have to fight through those jokers outside. How are other things going?"

The thought of not being compatible was something Logan had never bothered to consider, because he'd been under the impression the whole time he and Izzy had been compatible. Was there something along the way he'd missed? Aside from the lack of time they'd spent together since New Year's Eve, the former Watcher couldn't think of anything.

Had he really been that blind? Had it been right there in front of him and he just missed it -- willing or otherwise? Those were thoughts for a later time, one in which he wasn't at work, trying to help customers or carry on a conversation with the closest thing he could consider a friend of late.

He gave Michaela the best smile he could muster, grateful for her concern -- even if it was still a bit of a surprise. "The store's pretty much it," he said with a sigh of resignation. "Not exactly swimming in the social pool, and I don't have the time or energy for anything else. It's fine, though ... I'm proud of this place."

Scanning the book at the register for the former detective, he added, "How are the kids?"

"I'm dealing with college applications right now," Michaela replied with a rueful headshake. "UCLA's offered Denise a partial scholarship and she's looking at options for on-campus living. The house is going to be really quiet with both her and Ryan attending school out of state. And Cory wants to play baseball this summer. I'm kind of looking forward to dealing with car trips and washing muddy uniforms again. It'll be kind of like turning back the clock."

She still kind for wondered how in the loop Logan was, if he knew that her and her son's erstwhile benefactor was in the city somewhere, but mentioning it seemed like a very bad idea. Ex-Watcher or not, and the article he'd written last year notwithstanding, he probably still had his connections. Better to keep to her own counsel on the subject, at least for now. This new rapport between them was one thing, total trust was another, and she wouldn't do anything to put her family's safety at risk, not after the events in Nevada.

"Do you ever do consults?" she asked suddenly. "About book knowledge, I mean. I know there's a lot more information out there now, but sometimes having knowledgeable sources nearby can be helpful. Not to mention having someone who can break things down into laymen's terms."

The former Watcher instantly brightened at the mention of Michaela's daughter possibly attending UCLA. "That's fantastic," he said. "My cousin Ricardo is getting his Master's in psychology there.

"Cory seems to have adjusted well too ... I'm glad he found you."

Though he'd been beyond shocked over the holidays to learn Cory was under Michaela's care, that gave way to the massive relief that the boy had somehow landed safely in a good family -- a normal family, thus guaranteeing a future free from vampire cults and whacked-out Slayers. Logan didn't know how Cory got to Michaela, and he didn't really care; all that mattered was that he was okay.

"I actually did some of that when I was in Denver," he said about the idea of being a consult. "Well, before I met Francis, anyway ... I might just start doing that again. I just hired a psychic, since people were constantly asking for readings here."

"If it'd be all right with you, I could give you a call now and then," she said. "Sometimes a client will have specific questions about something, and while I like to think of myself as an experienced amateur, it doesn't always carry as much weight as someone who's been trained. We could arrange something regarding a fee if you'd like. I don't know if an official contract would be necessary, but I'd like to at least pay you something for any help you could give."

Something about the name struck her, and she realized she'd never heard mention of anyone named Francis before. Once her purchase had been bagged up, she tucked the credit card receipt into her wallet and said, "Sounds like there's a story there. Friend of yours?"

Glad for the chance to assist someone else, even more so than what he was already doing as owner of Thoth's Library, Logan appreciated Michaela's offer for a deal of sorts between them. "That would be great. I'd like to help out."

Maybe helping others would help Logan heal a little.

"I was her Watcher," Logan added regarding Francis, purposefully leaving out the part that they were also lovers. Though they had been relatively close in age, thus rendering any awkwardness of the situation moot, the former Watcher realized there was some stigma still associated with a Watcher and a Slayer dating. Francis was just a Slayer to train at first, but the romantic relationship quickly developed -- without Logan even trying to force one, either.

"A vampire killed her a little over a year ago. I came to Chicago soon after."

And there it was again, the specter of death, and Michaela looked down at the counter as if that would help her avoid noticing it. "I'm sorry," she told Logan sincerely, feeling as if she'd asked something inappropriate. She wondered if his more recent break-up with Izzy had made the other incident more obvious in a way. The former homicide investigator looked down at her hands. She was still wearing her wedding ring. Hard to get out from under the cloud when it seemed like it was literally everywhere.

"That must have been difficult. I remember it too well, that first shock."

"Thanks."

Logan nearly told Michaela about how Francis was killed on live television and he saw it as it happened, but it occurred to the former Watcher that might've sounded competitive in a way ... like he would've been trying to say the death of his loved one trumped the former detective's. He remembered feeling sick over reading what happened to Drew, especially since he had a pretty good idea who was responsible. He decided not to go down that road, nodding once before his gaze focused on her hands on the counter.

The ring. Damn.

"I'm not sure if I ever said it," Logan mused, "but I'm sorry. About your husband."

"I keep meaning to take it off," she said, covering the diamond with her ringless other hand as if to erase it from existence. "Maybe part of me is waiting until Denise is out of the house to do it, so she doesn't think I've forgotten her father. Its different with Cory, since Drew was...since he and Drew never met. But I wouldn't want her to think that I've stopped loving her dad. None of us got to say good-bye the way we should have. I don't want to compound it before I have to."

Michaela's chin quivered for an instant, and she tightened her jaw to make it go still. It still snuck up on her sometimes, the grief of it. Such a long road back. "If there's a hell, that woman's in it."

"From what I saw and heard," Logan said, "the worst hell dimension in existence would be too good for her."

Time was, Logan felt for Samantha Blanchard; he felt she was wrongly accused of Gerald Watkins' murder, and the former Watcher empathized with the fact that she lost her son for seemingly no reason. But as time passed, and the Slayer lost whatever humanity she had in the first place, that sympathy gave way to an anger that threatened to boil over when the Child Protective Services building in Las Vegas burnt to the ground. Drew Starnes' murder was the last straw in a lot of ways, and Logan blamed the entire episode for losing his stomach for journalism, a profession he'd dreamed of since childhood.

Losing his job with the Council was actually a completely unrelated matter, but Logan still blamed London in a sense for the whole thing. If he'd been allowed to intervene before the Watkins parents were killed, maybe the whole mess could've been avoided. Logan certainly hadn't needed the Council when it came to training Francis.

"I remember Cory being a sweet kid," he added. "A little shy, and the other kids at CPS didn't take to him, but he was a good kid. I had to be impartial for my job, but I felt bad for him."

If she told him, would he believe her? "My son is a good kid," she said, emphasizing the word 'son' as if he might disagree with her. "When he gets older, I'm going to have to tell him something about his bio-mother, I guess, but until then I'm holding off. He doesn't deserve to grow up with that hanging over his head."

There was a short pause, then; "I'll probably give you a call in a week or so about that consulting thing, if that's okay."

The former Watcher wasn't about to argue whether or not Cory truly was Michaela's son -- circumstances, for whatever reason, ultimately had decided she was -- all that mattered was the boy was safe, healthy and happy. Since he appeared to finally be all of the above, Logan decided the issue no longer concerned him. Then again, being fired from the Council and leaving Nevada also did a good job of washing his hands of the whole thing.

If it hadn't been for Francis, there was no telling how that episode would've eaten at Logan. The fact that he was still relatively sane was a testament to the relationship they'd had.

"Sounds good," he replied, placing the book in a white plastic bag and handing it to Michaela. "I think I could get used to us talking to each other without dirty looks and eye rolls."

It would have been too easy, and maybe a little unsportsmanlike, to point out that those eyerolls and dirty looks had been fully earned by the former Watcher, and so the ex-cop just accepted her bag and tucked the receipt into her wallet. "I'll give you a call. And things will get better. If you need an ear, let me know."

She stepped away from the counter, feeling like she'd accomplished at least something with the visit. What happened from here was anyone's guess, but making a start was always the important thing. And now they both had.