Meet Joe Strummer... Again.

Who: Doc and Pandect
Where: Streets around town
When: midday

As a professional hazard, Doc was used to surprises. As a man who had seen and done the impossible more times than he could easily count, he expected surprises as much as any man could without trying to anticipate them. And while he'd gotten good at rolling with the punches, so to speak, there were still plenty of times when he was genuinely caught unawares by his life and the world around him. But he hadn't expected it to happen with music.

Doc hadn't given up on music entirely, after all. Plenty of days saw him smile at some song on the radio or nod in approval as he drifted through a smoky concert-space while on a task of War. But he certainly hadn't expected to find something that made him feel nostalgia that was, at the same time, entirely new to him. He'd heard the song on the radio in his car, had gone right out to buy the album like he'd done decades earlier when he'd first heard Deep Purple, and now? Now Doc was content to walk and listen to the music buzzing into one ear.

It was just so rare and refreshing to hear the enthusiasm again; the fervor that had driven him as a young man and motivated him to challenge the status quo, to peel back the secrets of reality. It was so refreshing, in fact, that Doc was oblivious to the world around him as he walked and read the lyrics from the album's insert with a grin stretching around his cigarette.

Pandect had had his share of bumping into people thank you. Quite enough of that, his anxiety was enough that he didn't really feel up to risking walking around town. Sitting in town was another matter. He curled his legs up close to him and read from the first of the three travel guides, 'The land around Marquette was known to French missionaries of the early 17th century and the trappers of the early 19th century,' he read. That was interesting, he didn't know how many city had Frenchmen below the border. It was something. There was a small black and white sketch of what Pandect assumed were missionaries teaching the natives.

Why was he doing this?

This was ridiculous and stupid and not helping anything. His legs wandered out while he was brooding (although Pandect wouldn't call it brooding) sneaking out to stretch in front of him after a day of being cramped up in the electrical closet.

Call it an argument against progress, really. If Doc had never swapped out his old biker boots with their steel toes, heels, and shin plates? He would've pushed right through Pandect's legs, likely without even knowing they were there. Of course, the much-thinner hightops he wore now offered no comparable resilience. He tangled legs with the other man, pitching forward with a short cry of surprise and a look of very genuine bewilderment on his face.

Arguments for progress, however, included things like demonic strength that he levied as the pavement rushed up in front of him. Doc dropped the lyric booklet and shoved both hands out in front of him, catching himself with a grunt of surprise and wincing. It was close, close enough that his cigarette had been crushed and his cheek kissed by the embers. "I'm gonna hope that wasn't deliberate," he muttered at the shape he could partially see out of his peripheral vision.

Pandect really couldn't help himself, he crouched down next to the sprawled form, shoving his brand new visitor's guide to Marquette back into his back pocket. "I'm so sorry, I should have been watching my feet. Are you alright?" A little too courteous perhaps, but Pandect always did cling to old school manners, and it helped that he was an angel.

Something about the voice tickled the recesses of Doc's memory, though he couldn't say what. The vague feeling that he'd heard it before was present, but it didn't immediately connect itself to a name or face or job. In his travels, he'd met hundreds of people, maybe thousands, and the most immediate recollections? Well, they were mostly dead these days. "I'm fine," he said in reply, shifting all the weight to one hand and twisting around to start standing again, "Call it a lucky save at my age."

Stopping to grab the little CD booklet he'd been reading, Doc finally stood back up and looked Pandect's way, blinking in slow surprise as he did. He knew this man from somewhere, but it couldn't be the same man. That had been twenty years ago if not more. Maine? Philly? Maryland... that Shabiri hunt. "Looks like you listened when I said 'get clear of D.C.'," he murmured in dry shock.

Pandect froze halfway to reaching out his hand to help the man up and tensed, there was recognition in the man's face that unsettled him. He blinked at the man's words and stepped back sharply, tensing while he tried to place a face, a name. He remembered vaguely turning South sometime in his past, but honestly didn't remember why or who gave him the advice. "Pardon?" he said blankly, the back of his mind working on how to escape without lying. "Are you alright?" he diverted, slowly easing his body away, his eyes sneaking past the man to spot his truck before sliding smoothly back. "I apologize for tripping you, my mind was elsewhere." The man wasn't a demon, but that didn't mean anything.

"I'm fine," Doc assured him, reaching up to wipe a dot of ash from his cheek. Was Pandect lying? An amnesiac, maybe? There was no room for the third, more logical option that this wasn't the man Doc had met. He'd needed his powers to keep his body fit, sure, but his mind was as sharp as it had ever been. "No apologies needed. Keep 'em and just... don't panic, okay? Last time we met, you had some reason to be on edge. Today? Nothing that I'm aware of." He gave those words a moment to sink in, taking the chance to get a new cigarette out and lit before offering his hand. "Joe Strummer."

Pushing down the fluttering panic that crawled up his chest Pandect cautiously extended a hand, "Nice to meet you again Mr. Strummer. I tend to travel a lot so excuse my not recognizing you," he still didn't fully, he rifled through his memories quickly, trying to find the man. Joe Strummer. Something about Hemingway he thought. And a fight.

Demons.

A quick tremor went through Pandect's body, that was quite a few years ago. Noticeably quite a few years.

"Not a problem. I've grown older, after all," Doc stated dryly, suddenly wondering again who he was dealing with. He remembered the hunt clearly, the way Pandect had blessed a bottle of liquor. And sure, angels could do that, but so could rare humans out there. As for not aging? Well, the list of beings who could manage that was long. "Funny, though. Crossing paths so far down the road, you know? I retired a few years back, set my camp up here. It's a pretty nice area, right? You new to the area... Garnier, right?" Doc finally guessed.

Pandect calmed a little at Mr. Strummer's tone, he didn't seem aggressive or overly curious. Maybe a little curious. He pulled his hands back to fiddle with his back pockets. "Yes, Garnier." He pulled himself in tight protectively, Strummer had aged, his hair had grayed. And, well, in comparison Pandect had maybe had three more white hairs and a few more callouses. It was rather hard not to feel exposed. "I just came to town a little while ago."

Smirking around his cigarette, Doc took a deep inhale as he watched Pandect, noting the fidgeting hands being stuffed into pockets. "Should I just... keep walking?" he asked frankly, thoughtful over the fact that two strangers who had saved each others' lives were still, in fact, total strangers. "Pretend we still haven't seen each other since that bar scrap? It's not going to bruise my ego, Garnier, and you don't exactly seem thrilled over all of this anyway."

Pandect shifted uncomfortably, he wasn't a coward, he had no trouble faced down fights when they were absolutely necessary and standing up for Amy when Mr. Anderson got on one of his tares. But this was too much. The good German, the French demon, that blond girl who said he reminded her of someone she knew, the packages this whole town was trying to grab hold of him sink in and hold him tight. He didn't know why, he had nothing, was good at very little except his newly coalescing social anxiety and fixing things. But the town didn't exactly need to be fixed.

He hands shifted and twisted over his elbows, trying to give himself some sort of sense of security, however small. His greatest security however was the truth. "I'd like to, yes, but that seems rather cowardly, don't you think? Its simply this town that has me on edge."

"Simply this town," Doc echoed, smiling dryly and shaking his head, "You win for understatement, no two ways about it. Town's got everyone on edge, Garnier, the town has the town on edge. And for the record? I'm not a man who conflates survival and cowardice. Sometimes it's just smart to get clear of a situation." And he seemed to have nothing else to say for the moment, holding stock-still and watching Pandect intently.

Pandect actually looked hopeful for a moment, "Its a relief to know I'm not the only one who noticed it. This place is... I'm not sure what it is, but its like a sinkhole, it almost seems to be collecting people." He braced his left arm protectively against him at the elbow with a practiced move, "I've never really stayed in one place for very long, it makes me antsy, but I can't seem to untangle myself from Marquette. I'm sorry I'm not exactly explaining myself very well, I'm not good with people, but I mean, you were there at the bar for the demons, weren't you?"

He wouldn't be comfortable taking direction from someone else, not on something as important as this. But he's getting to a point were his choices are becoming painfully limited, he wouldn't mind some advice.

Nodding slightly, Doc pursed his lips around his smoke as he studied the other man. Pandect clearly wasn't human, Doc would've needed to suffer amnesia to think that he was, so why was he so fidgety? He mused on something Eris had told him before; that not everyone could share his outlook. That meant it would be arrogant to judge this man for seeming so uneasy despite being more than human, and it was clear that Pandect seemed strained by the burden of knowledge.

"I was at the bar back then, yeah," he confirmed, "As I remember it, you explained exactly what you needed to, given the circumstances. Any other nerves, I'd excuse due to the fact that there were demons there that night." He twisted to look up the sidewalk in the direction he'd been heading, head canting to indicate a little cafe up the street. "I was on my way for a coffee, feel like joining me? Babycakes has the best you're going to get made for you anywhere in town. My treat, for the reunion and all."

Pandect muttered a little to himself in French and felt the tension ease out of him, he wasn't even keeping track of what he was saying, it was just something to make him relax. "Certainly," he said a little more sure of himself. He didn't know Strummer, not really, but it was clear that what ever he wanted, for the moment it was nothing that would tie him down further. "Why not? I can downtown to try and relax a little, I might as well try to." His attempt at humor was a little weak, not helped by the fact he didn't really smile, just sort of... didn't frown. He followed Strummer so that his left side was away and protected, he didn't even realise he was doing it, it was just something he did when there was someone he wasn't quite sure of. "And I'm sorry again for tripping you, I think I'm becoming inscreasingly clumsy as I'm getting older."

Silently grateful that he wasn't carrying any weapons lately, Doc moved along the sidewalk to indulge Pandect's choice of his side. The last thing he'd need would be to unnerve the man further with his pistol that crawled with demonic runes. "No apologies, seriously. I know how the limbs get treacherous with age," Doc replied, disregarding the apology entirely. It was a minor white lie, one he told often. Doc liked to keep his spry capabilities secret as much as he could.

"So... what you said about seeming stuck here? You realize you're not the only one, right?" he asked, glancing sidelong at the Frenchman. "I came to town and things were... well, somewhat quiet. Not as much as a town like this should be, but quieter. But something about the place is drawing us all in, good and bad alike. There's a power here, Garnier. Something ancient, older than the furriers and the missionaries. Which I realize is exactly the wrong sort of thing to hear if you're trying to relax," Doc tacked onto the end, smirking fleetingly.

"Its alright, I realized, people I knew before, people it should be impossible for me to see again I've run into here. To some degree its comforting to know I'm not the only one who feels the pull here. I just wish I understood why, I'm not much use at anything but fixing things. The Garniers have always aged well, I've had to learn a trade," he gave Strummer a self deprecating shrug. "Give me a truck or an electrical system or a grill and I can do well but I'm not exactly the most trustworthy person. Its not like I don't try. But its hard enough for me to keep myself out of trouble."

"I'd have left weeks ago, I probably should have, but everytime I go to leave, the town throws something at me," he looked half uncomfortable talking like this and half releaved that he could speak to someone about this. It was the same thing that had made him tell that man he was an angel after falling off the roof. Relief at not being quite so alone. So secret.

People it should be impossible for me to see again... Wasn't that the truth? "I'd ask about these people and what's being dropped in front of you, but I think that might segue into a whole lot of questions I have no right to ask," Doc explained diplomatically, pausing long enough to stub his cigarette and toss it in a trash can. "My point is, whatever secrets you keep? Whatever the reason is that you don't stay put for long? Something's happening here." He paused outside the coffee shop's door, eyeing Pandect intently. "Something's happening to the whole world, Garnier, and we've got a front-row seat. If you can leave, maybe you should. But there's a lot of people here that are in need of help, whether you think you're fit to provide it or not." And then, without waiting for a reply, he tugged the door open and slipped in, holding the door for Pandect.

A sharpish wave of something that might be annoyance stabbed through Pandect, he stepped inside, waiting for Strummer to pick a spot, this was his show. He had made that abundently clear the moment he started talking in tones that Pandect had heard everywhere from the Canadian frontier to World War II, he was making it clear he had Responsibilty with a capital R. Purpose with a capital P. He was dug down in the trenches and he wasn't going to let those (insert opposing side here) win. He was so much like Mache. And Pandect had very little respect for men like him. They were so blind, they got people killed. "So what? You're the general recruiting an army? Are you going to lead the little man into battle and save the world?"

Doc paused just beyond the door, feeling a stab of ire from Pandect's tone. He hadn't said anything that grandiose, he'd only made it clear that he knew Pandect was more than he seemed, and that maybe it mattered. Doc turned with a humorless smile in place, shaking his head and speaking in a quiet tone, mindful of the other people (few as they were) in the little cafe. "I'm the soldier who's told to hold the line, that's all. And I've seen what happens when I fail."

He nearly left it there, but the insult in Pandect's voice still riled him subtly, forcing Doc to take a step closer. "I'm not looking to recruit you, Garnier. I'm not trying to make people into warriors, I'm not even trying to save the day. I just think it's better to be a part of the change than a witness to it. Inaction is an easy way to live, but it's a cruel one to everyone who isn't you. Now... what sort of coffee you feel like?"

Pandect nodded his head in curt apology, "Black please. You're upset with me now, its only I've known enough recruits, people who are killed for those they love, and those they count on," he paused tightly. "I knew a man, know a man. He has good intentions, a good heart for all his gruffness who did horrible things, had horrible things done to him in the name of holding the line. I've seen enough lines to be wary of them."

"And I wouldn't exactly call myself inactive," he automatically covered up a small painful smile with his fingers, being hard on himself more than anything. "I've tried my hand at helping people, I've found its safer for people in general if I just go it alone. Like I said, I'm not particularly good with people, look at how I annoyed you, and we haven't even known each other more than two hours."

"Annoyed is a better word than upset," Doc agreed, turning and placing the order. He didn't say much for the minute it took to get both of their carryout cups, handing one over to Pandect and paying, then moving towards the door again. "And it's not you so much as how you said things. Oversimplification bugs me, plain and simple. I'd rather argue semantics for an hour than have someone think they've summed up their case in five minutes," he explained, pushing back out of the door and onto the streets.

Blowing a curl of steam from his mug, Doc sipped gingerly and sighed in approval, smiling more earnestly now. "And I'm not trying to say I know better? But I did the same as you for a while; kept to myself, worked my jobs alone. I pissed away a long chunk of years before I decided to stop. People make each other stronger. Even if we bring out flaws or cloud each others' thinking, we temper each other just by being there."

Leaning back and sipping quietly Pandect tried to think of a way of explaining himself, maybe he did oversimplify, or over complicate, or not explain himself well. He was too awkward or too old fashioned or too prickly, he wasn't sure which. Maybe he just hadn't spent enough time around people. He tried to say what he felt and ended up in a complicated verbal knot that he had no idea how he got tied up in in the first place.

"I'm glad you have someone then," he said simply. Simple was best, wasn't it? "Its good to have someone to care about. To be tempered. Maybe that's what the town is trying to do to me. It would certainly be interesting to see the effect Kurt would have on me longterm," he said into his mug, more to himself than anything, not really paying attention to the name he let slip. Humans as a whole were a rather self confident race, which hardly was a bad thing, Pandect wished he had that much faith in himself, but Kurt was a refreshing sort of man. Sure the German had done horrible things, the air around him was practically glowing red, but his heart was still good, the man wanted to do good, to redeem himself, and Pandect had taken comfort in telling the man he was better than he thought he was.

"Can't say I've ever lacked people to care about," Doc admitted, sipping his coffee lightly, "Just had a problem being there for them. Selflessness can be selfish, I've found." He knew he had a penitent complex, that he wanted to martyr himself in some sense by denying what made him happy. Who'dve thought it would be so hard to let yourself smile? The mention of Kurt raised Doc's brow for a moment, but he didn't leap on it like he wanted to. Could it have been the same Kurt? Even in a town this small, a name that common would have to be repeated.

"And if that's what you feel the town doing to you? Good," he eventually went on, nodding resolutely, "We're all dynamic creatures, we crave change on a fundamental level even if we don't acknowledge it. Stagnation is rarely a good thing. And shot in the dark here, but Kurt? Wouldn't be Kurt Petersen, would it? Big German guy who communicates entirely in facial expressions?"

Pandect tightened up again, his knuckles going white momentarily around his cup, he leaned back a little letting his eyes refocus on the man across from him. He had gotten so good at nearly completely ignoring people's auras he didn't really see them all that much. Most supernatural creatures had a sort of film in front of them, making them, well, fuzzy for lack of a better word. If it was at all possible Strummer looked fuzzier. Pandect would have remembered to remember him if he had had that degree of cataract between Pandect and his aura. He blinked back to himself and said dryly, "Would you think it was too much of a coincidence too, if I said yes?"

Doc smiled tightly, taking a moment to send a silent prayer on Kurt's behalf. Find her, friend, he thought as he drew a deep breath and shook his head. "Around here? Coincidence doesn't hold water. The entropy of certainty's a bitch like that, I've found." He popped the lid from his coffee, drinking deeper despite the heat and sighing in contentment. "Kurt left town, Garnier. He and I were working on something together for a while, but he was called elsewhere."

He looked uncertainly down at his cup, In for a penny... It was just as well that Kurt left, people tended not to do so well around Pandect. "I hope he's doing well, he was a good man. Is a good man I should say. I don't suppose you know any other Frenchmen in town?" Pandect took another long sip, letting the question hang out there, it was just leading enough to find out if the man knew Delacourt. He couldn't exactly say 'Are you acquainted with a French demon with a foulmouthed younger brother of the same affiliation?' It would be too much of a coincidence if they knew two of the same people, but the only person in town whom he knew from before was the demon Frenchman whom he hadn't seen for a while, thank Goodness. If it was up to him they'd never meet again. But Pandect needed to know how he was being pulled, in what direction, for what purpose, this was the only lead he had had so far.

He took a moment to think on that, just for the sake of certainty. Doc's wits were sharp, he hadn't met any French citizens here in town, but it never hurt to really consider. "Can't say I do, no," he answered at last, "I've met a few Europeans, sure, but no one from France." Just a German friend and an Italian something who still conjured up an ache in Doc's chest from memory alone. "You looking for someone? Seems to be more than one person's reason to come up this way." And he was good at finding people, though he couldn't advertise that without sinister connotations.

Covering up a small smile with his fingers Pandect turned his coffee cup on the counter top slowly, "Quite the opposite actually, you're just the first person with whom I have someone in common, even someone rather impossible and inexplicable, you're my first lead as it is. As well as someone I met before coming to Marquette, I was simply curious if we were connected in other ways. Its very... upsetting to feel trapped when you're used to living on the road. To being unconnected. I feel rather tethered actually, I thought maybe-" he shrugged noncommittally.

"Other than just meeting you, finding out about Kurt, there doesn't seem to be any order to it, and if I'm going to be caught up by the town, I'd like to know why before I find there's a noose around my neck."

It was Doc's turn to smile, but he made no real effort to hide the expression. "I know how you feel, actually. I was on the road a long time before I settled here, and it took a lot of adjusting. I think the first thing you need to try is telling yourself that you're not trapped. If I wanted to? I could be on the road again tomorrow. But I prefer knowing the streets, knowing where I'll be at night." It was time for yet another smoke, the third of his encounter and one he only lit up to still the fidget of his free hand. "The second thing? Well, focus less on why you're here and more on what you can do to make here a good place to be. It's an overwhelming place when you start getting pulled into its' tides. Don't guess at why they ebb and flow, just be as ready as you can to move with them."

Tilting his head Pandect narrowed his eyes, "You seem to have certain advantages though. Its much easier to move with the tides when you have certain strengths, I have relatively little in my favor except above par mechanical skills and a tad more perception than some. I don't doubt that your right, but its not always that easy, even if I was overwhelmed by the desire to make here a better place," and he honestly had the desire to do good, he enjoyed it, it was terribly liberating, "there's not much I can do, I'm too old now. I might as well start talking about settling down and starting a family. The town's trying to press me into impossible shapes."

"I could offer all kinds of theories on that," Doc mused, "But it'd require a lot of assuming on my part. Suffice to say that I've never known the world to press you into the impossible for very long. Either you break or you realize you can fit." It was a curious discussion to have as Pandect admitted to some degree of desire to help, it almost made Doc want to try and draw him in. But he'd seen how that sort of offer was regarded. "And honestly? A background like mine can work against you. Too many hunters react to change with a loaded weapon. Still, it's not anything that has to happen today, Garnier. When you're ready, if you're ready? You'll just know. And it'll feel good in it's own way."

"I'm not a hunter," Pandect said sharply and quickly tempered his tone, wincing. "No offense of course, its just not a profession I can stomach. I lost everything because of hunting," he leaned back, staring at the bottom of his coffee cup. "If that's what the town wants I..." he didn't say that he'd kill himself. The world could only stand to lose so many men like his sweet Kels. It was a hard enough place it was. It would destroy Pandect anyway, there wouldn't be anything left of him.

But that was hardly something he could mention over coffee.

"Although I suppose if the forces of good ever need home repair done, I could be put to good use," he suddenly felt tired. Too tired.

Scrutinizing Pandect for a long moment, Doc tucked his cigarette in the corner of his mouth and reached out, lightly clapping the angel on the shoulder. "It's good that you're not a hunter," he clarified, "That's what I meant by my background working against me. Whatever's happening here? It won't be stopped by bullets, or weapons of any kind. This isn't a war, it's a balancing act. And that's going to take all shapes and sizes." Ignoring his better judgment as it told him that he was beyond the point of randomly offering aid, Doc withdrew his hand to produce his phone from one pocket. "If there's ever trouble... you want a way to reach me?"

He wasn't starved for touch. Honestly. It was just that he spent so must time on his own no one even seemed to have the opportunity to ever even do anything as simple as but a hand on his shoulder, unless they were people like Amy who thought just about everyone was their best friend. All the tension just sort of melted off him, he shrugged a little, he hoped he wasn't quite that easy, just a hand on his shoulder and he was done being difficult. Maybe he had been alone too long. "I don't have a cell phone," he shrugged. "I'm a little old fashioned to be honest. But I'm room 7 at the Lamplighter, at the edge of town, you'd have to write down your number on something." It was only good manners to offer the same thing, but a chill went down his back at the thought of promising aid. Of promising anything.

"Not much happens there though, I don't know when I'd even be able to call in. But I do appreciate the gesture." He really did, he just didn't want Strummer to expect Sunday night phone calls. "And I suppose since we at least have a mutual friend you could call me Pandect if you want. Its my first name, you can imagine why I don't just give it to everyone. It makes being forgotten a little more difficult."

Doc slipped his phone away, swapping it out for a pen and a scrap of paper. He crouched to set his coffee down long enough to scrawl out his number, standing tall again and offering it to Pandect with a nod. "Even if it's just to let me know if you're noticing anything strange? Feel free to call. You may get my voice mail..." Doc trailed off, grinning thoughtfully to himself. It'd be a confusing voice mail to reach if Pandect thought he was calling Strummer. "You can call me Doc, then. Most everyone does. Joe Strummer was actually the frontman for the Clash, sorry for that," he explained, chuckling, "When you're working a hunt, it's better not to give out too many personal tidbits."

The lie irritated Pandect a little, like a fly might, as lies always did, but he shook it off. "Its alright. You had your reasons," he mentally relabeled 'Strummer' as 'Doc' and nodded. He wasn't really sure who 'the Clash' was, but he ascertained they were some sort of musical group. Pandect looked over the number, not quite memorizing it, in case he needed later and the slip of paper became misplaced. Not that it would be, he didn't own enough for even something as small as a slip of paper. If Pandect had been an angel capable of smiling easily he would have quirked his mouth, this was the first time someone had given him a phone number for any reason.

He hoped he wasn't getting sentimental, that was the last thing he needed to develop in a town like this, "I'll certainly call if the oppurtunity arises." That was the most he could promise right? Not that he was promising anything.

"Reasons rarely justify these things," Doc argued tamely, nodding in agreement all the same. "But do that if you need a hand, even if it's just for something mundane. I'm pretty well-versed in a few fields. And if I need to get in touch with you, I know where to look." Exits were a trickier thing by far when one wasn't playing the enigmatic stranger angle, but that was something Doc chalked up to being human in general. Keep working on it, he chided himself, shrugging after a moment and grinning Pandect's way. "I should get, though. Got a dog that needs walking, I guarantee he's terrorizing my living space as we speak," he said, excusing himself with a slight nod the other man's way. "Let's hope it doesn't take twenty years for us to run into each other again."

Pandect watched him go quietly before looking at the scrap of paper again. Maybe he should stop fighting Marquette, it hadn't really gotten him anywhere, it might be best just to find a defensible position and keep still in it. He was a little out of practice on that whole 'keeping still' thing, but he could manage. Somehow he always did. In the very least Marquette had finally hit on a successful tact. She had tried his need to forgive (one didn't have pity for a man like Kurt Petersen, it was strictly unnecessary) and antagonism. It looked like a welcoming hand was all it took for Pandect to take one foot of the proverbial road. The first time anyone had given him their number, even if Doc nee Strummer was simply trying to make him turn informant. It wasn't always the thought that counted. It meant something to be reached toward.

And the worst part was he almost wished something weird would happen.