Offer Still Stands
It looked like a nice enough shop. The front door was glassed-in, large windows to either side, an awning over the door. She could see some books on display, those and what looked like runes set up in a smaller case. The day was chilly but not too frigid, rays of sun creating long shadows on the sidewalk. She'd been standing here too long. She just had to walk through that door, because certain things needed to be ... discussed.

Michaela finally moved from her stationary post, walked up the stairs to Thoth's Library and opened the door, heard the bell jingle. She was done hiding, and there was nothing he could do to her anyway. The worst had already happened, and she was coming back from it.

The former homicide investigated waited to be noticed, loitering near the bookshelf nearest the front of the store. Waiting for Logan to catch sight of her.

Logan couldn't keep a lot of his books in stock following the incident on New Year's Eve, particularly anything related to mutation or general demonology. It seemed everyone wanted to know exactly what those creatures that escaped from the Lincoln Park barricade were, which meant a lot of people wound up in Thoth's Library, scouring the shelves with disgusted glances before finally picking one or two books to buy. The former Watcher wasn't going to complain about the business, but having lived through that ordeal, Logan wasn't really keen to keep reliving it.

Putting a vampire volume on one of the top shelves had proven difficult, thanks to the wound on his arm. It was still bandaged, and was healing well, but the movement stretched the skin and made Logan hiss in pain. He'd thought of asking Izzy to do a little spell on it, but she was so wiped from the spells she cast to help everyone escape and erect another barricade that he didn't want to chance it. Traditional medicine was working fine, though, so he couldn't complain too much.

Hearing the bell ring to signal another customer, Logan looked over with a smile. It disappeared almost immediately, though; not because he wasn't happy to see Michaela, but because he figured he had a pretty good idea of the conversation that was about to unfold. Logan figured he would've seen her after the holiday dinner, when he discovered Cory Blanchard was now in her care, and the former Watcher didn't know how he felt about that.

Part of him just didn't want to deal with it. After all, if the Council hadn't handcuffed him by telling him to stay out of everything, chances were a Slayer wouldn't have died and the child would still be with his mother. Still, if he was happy and healthy and safe, did it really matter who he was with now?

"Michaela," he greeted, feeling unsure of himself. "Hi."

"Logan."

Her tone was neutral, and she was grateful that they were apparently the only people in the shop right then. Her hands went into the pockets of her casual blazer, and she studied the ex-Watcher for a long minute before stepping further into the buidling. This would be the final closure, her check to make sure that the seams weren't about to come apart again. To protect herself and her family. The new life she had made.

"Did you think she'd killed him?"

"Considering what became of her," Logan mused, leaning the elbow of his left arm against the bookshelf, "I wouldn't have put it past her. Especially since she burnt down the CPS building and killed almost a dozen children in the process."

The former Watcher was glad Cory hadn't been among those children; The Clark County Beacon had asked him to cover that story, the editors thinking it had something to do with the Blanchard case -- and they were right -- but Logan refused. That was when he knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, he no longer had any business being a newspaper writer. His comfort with the profession had long since waned, and it lingered to the point where even after promising the Chicago Tribune he'd do an interview for the store, Logan changed his mind.

He just didn't want his name in the paper anymore.

"I'm glad she didn't," he said sincerely. "He looks well."

"I have him in school now," Michaela informed Logan. "He had nightmares for a while, but he seems to be past that now. I don't know how much he remembers, if he remembers any of it. I supposed I haven't exactly encouraged him to retain those memories."

She wondered if he knew about Grace, that the vampire was in the area. How out of the loop he really was. If she told him, would he believe her?

"I almost went crazy," she said. "You'd think after so long dealing with murderers and murder victims it wouldn't hit me so hard, but I never expected to ..." She broke off, looked down at the floor. "I thought we'd grow old and white-haired together, or that I'd go first. He always used to tell me to be careful, and I knew the job was dangerous. His wasn't supposed to be."

There was a time when she would have been in tears by now, but the layer of scar tissue on her heart was protective, a security blanket. Instead she simply shook her head. "Believe me when I tell you that anyone who comes near my family again will re-learn what it means to hurt."

"I believe that," the former Watcher said, forcing his gaze to stay on Michaela. If she was opening up this way to someone who she probably never actually cared for, then he owed her the decency of looking her in the eye. Besides, Logan didn't have anything to hide -- he no longer had any stake in what happened to the child, and all he cared about was whether or not Cory was alright, and he was.

"And for whatever it's worth, I'm sorry about what happened to your husband."

Drew Starnes, yet another victim of the Council's infinite wisdom. Logan sometimes felt guilty for following London's orders, instead of just going on his own to reach out to Samantha and offer his assistance. Because he didn't, though, a Slayer, several children and someone's husband were dead. It had become easier to live with, but there were still times the mere notion ate at him.

"You don't have to worry about me interfering with anything," he added. "I'm no longer a reporter, and the Council fired me."

"She's dead too," the ex-cop said. "Samantha. Don't ask me how I know, just that it ended in Nevada, and I'm not sorry. I'd have done it myself if I could. I hope she suffered."

She'd never openly wished someone dead before, and just this once it felt good. Hatred could be corrosive, but there were those who occasionally deserved it. Michaela spotted a couple of chairs near one of the reading tables, some books still stacked on the wooden surface, and she went to sit down, the cushion sagging under her weight.

"So," she said, deciding that she'd made her point clearly enough to change the subject. ""You seem to be doing pretty well for yourself here. Congratulations, seriously."

Logan knew how Samantha died, because the Council saw fit to tell him in excruciating detail when it fired him -- how Samantha's death was Logan's fault, the former Watcher would never know. He figured if Michaela wanted to know how Samantha died, he would tell her, but this was neither the time nor the place. Especially since the former detective changed the subject.

Logan was sort of glad for that, and he loosened his posture, sliding his hands into his pockets and glancing around the store. It was one of those slow days in the store, which was why Logan felt comfortable in re-stocking his shelves. He was expecting a shipment later in the day, a supply of texts on mutation and a couple Artemis candles -- simultaneously one of the store's most expensive and most popular items.

"Thank you," he said with a muted grin, sitting across from Michaela. "Just glad to find my footing again. How are things at your agency?"

"Picking up," Michaela answered. "I've decided to start working on some real cases again, get involved on a consulting level with the police department. I've been advising a few of their detectives already, but I hope to get involved on a deeper level. Anything has to be better than skulking around after the unfaithful spouse of the week with a camera."

She chuckled self-deprecatingly, adding, "They've been kind of wary about letting a civillian beyond the blue wall, but I've got the experience and the determination. I just need a little more elbow room."

To that, Logan smiled. "I'm probably the last person you'd expect or want to say this," he mused, leaning his elbows on the table, "but if there's ever an odd case and you need materials or something, you know where to find me."

Was the former Watcher really in a place to offer such help? Probably not, but he was comfortable enough in his own skin and content with where his life had gone since leaving Nevada that it seemed like the right thing to do. After all, he opened the doors to this store to help people, so didn't it make sense to offer said assistance to Michaela? Despite their differences over time, Logan never thought of Michaela as a bad person, and he actually sort of admired her for taking in Cory and raising him. He didn't know how she came across the boy, and he didn't really care; Cory's safety was all that mattered.

"If you don't mind me asking," he added with a hint of hesitation, "what will you tell him? When he asks?"

"I don't know." She was looking down at her hands, which she'd folded into her lap. The diamond in the ring Drew had given her glittered feebly under the lights. She was really going to have to take the ring off one day. "I don't want to have to tell him the truth, that his mother was an insane bitch who butchered my husband like beef cattle. But I don't know if a lie wouldn't be worse. I guess I'll cross that bridge when I get there."

It was a piss-poor answer and she knew it, but for the moment it was all she had. He was such a little boy, and he didn't deserve the stigma he might feel in having a killer for a mother. So yes, she would navigate that path when the was actually on it.

"How's Izzy?" she queried. "The two of you seem like a good couple."

The weight between them was lifted once again when Michaela mentioned Logan's girlfriend. The former Watcher sat back in his chair, letting himself relax a little. "She's good," he answered. "I haven't seen her since New Year's Eve, but of the two of us, I was the one who got hurt."

Logan chuckled a little, raising his right arm as much as he could before the pain jolted through his nerves again. He'd have to call her later, see how she was doing. She never said anything about when Logan told her he loved her, though he told himself she probably just hadn't heard him as she was running off in the direction of the barricade. At least, the bookstore owner hoped that was what happened. He hoped she wasn't scared by the notion; Logan had done a fairly good job of rebuilding his life since coming to Chicago, and Izzy had been a large part of that.

"It's nice, though," he added. "knowing someone who didn't already know or care about everything I did in Nevada."

"Well, some mistakes trail after us for a while," the former police officer said good-naturedly. "Sometimes the best we can do is not repeat them. You seem to have made a pretty good start on that. If Izzy's been helping with that, then more power to the both of you."

She paused, studying Logan's clean-shaven face. "Y'know, you're really not so bad once you stop being a jackass. You shouldn't have taken up that habit earlier."

"Well, it was either that or cigarettes," Logan quipped with a sideways grin. "Being a jackass was cheaper, not to mention it won't give me cancer."

That the former Watcher was able to joke about something that over a year ago might've pissed him off was a good sign. Maybe Izzy and his life with the establishment of Thoth's Library was was changing not just Logan's attitude, but his personality as well. Yet another reason being away from the Council and anything even remotely associated with the news media was a good thing.

"I'm glad Cory's alive and with a family," he added. "From what I remember, he was a good kid. Little shy, but good."

"He loves his brother and sister," Michaela said with a nod. "I was afraid at first, knowing I'd be raising him by myself, but I love him as much as if I'd birthed him myself now. I guess we sort of made each other whole when it was needed."

She sat in silence for a while, then lifted herself out of the chair. "I wish you luck," she told Logan. "Both with this and whatever else you attempt. A new start can be everyone's friend. If you need help with anything, let me know. I'll do what I can."

Rising as well, Logan extended his hand for Michaela. "The offer stands here too," he said. "Take care of yourself, Michaela."

She shook hands with the man, feeling the last of the invisible weight roll off of her shoulders. Even if she and Logan never became actual friends, she felt secure in the knowledge that the former Watcher had no designs on disrupting her re-constituted life. That, at least, was something she could prevent, even if her ace in the hole was a killer who lurked somewhere in the city.

"Enjoy the rest of your day. I'm glad I stopped by."