With a mild sigh, Devika took another sip of her chocolate caramel decaf latte, looking around the Witch's Brew coffeehouse as she adjusted her silver pince-nez. She could recognize the usual crowd, and it was a busy night for the place. The regulars were dyed and pierced and tatted, punk and grunge, the outliers of society. Even Devika herself had a small jewelry collection worn on her person. A gold bangle on her wrist, 5 rings with different stones on her opposite hand. She had two pairs of earrings, one set simple bronze hoops, the other a set of tiny globes that seemed to be filled with a miniature, flickering candlelight. Her black, frizzy curls ran wild down her back, barely restrained by a headband. The rest of her clothing could be called 'eclectic' at best, and her heavyset, curvy body shape certainly wasn't the current style either. She fit in here, in a 'crazy starving artist' sort of way.

Leaning back in the worn, old leather easy chair, she settled her body and shut her ginger-brown eyes, feeling out the places with her other senses. The air was heavy with the scent of roasted beans, with lighter undertones of wood smoke and flavored tobacco. There was someone messing with the piano on the side of the old stage, and someone else doing some pretty decent guitar licks on the opposite side. 

She took a few slow, deep breaths, and let her magical sense do some reading. The general feel in the house today was one of geniality. Most everyone was on the positive side of things. There was an argument going on at one of the tables nearest to her, though. Judging by the pitch of voices and the vibrancy of the emotions in the air, it seemed to be a couple. A woman, berating her man for some perceived slight. A faint smirk came to her full lips, revealing a dimple. Some women were so silly, thinking their man had to be some paragon of perfection, or some kind of mind reader. Even though having a mind-reading man would be ever so slightly more common in this coffeehouse than anywhere else in LA, she still didn't understand it. 

At this point in her life, she'd be happy for any brand of man who knew how to treat a woman right. She was 27, without a steady job, and (if she was to be completely honest) rather lonely. While she wasn't looking for a husband, she did want someone she could share things with. A lot of things: her hopes, her dreams, her magic, even her body. Not necessarily in that order. Some days she'd be happy to get the last on the list, if anything at all. Oh well. Maybe someday. 

With a distant sigh, she started to toy with the thick golden bangle around her right wrist, feeling the warm metal against her skin and the power embedded within it. Some days she wished she could really just be her whole self. Devika Jones, wizard, woman, writer, and... wishing. 

Jack Lawless was not what one would call a patient man. Indeed, his impulsiveness had earned him the consistant criticism of at least three different papers every few months. It didn't faze him much, in the end he still had clients. And this particular client was late. She had called him up at the ungodly hour of four in the morning to arrange this meeting and if it wasn't for the money he wouldn't even be at the office today. Not that he was low on savings, he just prefered to have some money for...'emergencies'. He fiddled again with the papers on his desk again, reading through the notes he had taken the first time they had spoken.

[The client, a Mrs. Amanda Selkes, had reasonable suspicion to belive that her husband was a) secretly dealing with drugs and b) cheating on her. He apparently hid his evidence well as his investigation turned up nothing on that point.]

This meeting was based on some new information that Amanda would procure. Usually he didn't take cases such as this. He was more the 'lost items and missing persons type of guy.' But the money was too tempting to give up, and there was also the facts. Her husband, according to the client, was not only cheating on her but dealing drugs behind her back. That could imply a plethora of delicious possibilities, and he wasn't about to let a chance like that go easily.

Finally a rap on the door brought him back from his introspective stupor. He swiftly shoved his papers into the top drawer before getting up to let her in. Her gait was casually, with all the confidence of a tiger with the grace of a gazelle. He couldn't deny that Amanda Selkes was a fine specimen, curvacious in all the right places with fine gold strands of hair complimenting her striking features perfectly. She glanced back at him with curious green eyes.

" Should I stand for this meeting or am I allowed to sit?" She inquired, sarcasm dripping in her voice.

"...Please have a seat" he motioned towards the pair of chairs facing his desk. He shook his head lightly, pushing away any notions of desire. This was a client, not some random woman he could fancy about. He sat down across from her, interlacing his fingers and resting his elbows against the desk."

"I believe you initiated this meeting because you had some new evidence towards the case correct?"

"Yes, as you well know my husband is an accountant, highly meticulous when it comes to money. As such no matter what transactions, he keeps clear records on paper. I found some interesting papers underneath one of the dressers in my house." Amanda stated handing Jack the papers in question.

"As you can see several large transactions have been made featuring the sale and distribution of some goods labeled as 'oregano'. I don't honestly think he is investing in any 'oregano' companies currently, so I have to assume that these are drug trade transactions."

"I see..." Jack muttered, combing the pages for clues. I did seem like drug trade with such large sums and transactions.

"Is there anything else?"

"Yes. If you look on the back of one of the papers, there should be a note that states only a date, time and location." She said levelly.

Jack turned over the first paper and then the second, finally the third one produced the note which read: [8/14 4:00 The Little Witch Cafe] He looked up from the papers to Amanda who stared blankly at the wall behind him,

"What do you suppose this note means?" Jack tested, waiting to see how Amanda would respond.

" I suppose that this note implies a drug deal is intended to occur today at four o' clock, or maybe the meeting of a mistress. It might be both, but the reason why I told you this, the reason why I am here, is that I need you to tail him, be present when the meeting takes place. Seeing as it's a quarter to three already I'll need to take my leave so that you can leave as well. Goodbye Detective Lawless. And good luck." she left as calm and collected as she came, the door softly clicking behind her.

Seeing as he had places to be he exited his office, locking up for the day before briskly walking to his car. He had to get to the Little Witch Cafe and investigate.

Devika grunted with displeasure as she picked up her coffee mug and found it empty. “Refill time...” She was drinking decaf as usual, so she could have as much as she liked and not feel bad. She headed up to the counter, and glanced through the chalkboard menu above her head. It was purely a habitual glance, she pretty much knew the menu by heart at this point. If they had anything new, they would have put it on display.

“Hey, Anny.” Devika grinned at the violet haired teenager running the counter.

“Hey, miss Dev.” The boy smiled back, and she noted his glance taking a dive into her ample cleavage. Clearing her throat rather obviously, she tapped her mug with the underside of one of her rings, making a loud pinging sound against the ceramic.

“A strawberry white chocolate creamer. And don't skimp on the whipped cream.” She thrust the cup into his hands and stalked back to her table. Her frustration was evident in her movements, but already she was quelling it with breathing, calming and relaxing and shoving it away. By the time she sat, there was no outward trace of her feelings. But they rolled on within her mind.

How was it fair that the only male to give her attention was a sixteen year old that she couldn't give attention back to (legally, and ethically) and wouldn't know how to give her what she wanted, even if she could pay attention to him? It just wasn't right. It wasn't that she was particularly sex-hungry, it was that lust was just another type of energy. She couldn't do with any sort of built-up energy. Not with her particular brand of magic. The White Council would be on her ass in a heartbeat, and then where would she hide?

Devika huffed an annoyed sigh, and ran her hand through her black curls, gazing blankly out into space. She saw the front door open and heard the little bell above it tinkle. Her vision came into focus on the stranger, and something struck her as odd almost immediately. He was way too... normal looking. Blonde hair with no dye, no tats or piercings in plain sight, even his clothes were incredibly average. What the heck was this guy doing here? There were plenty of Starbucks in the city, so what made this plain stranger show up at this particular cafe? She propped her chin on her hand, and watched the man without making it obvious.

The Witch's Brew was located in a small inconspicuous building in an old district of L.A. The doors were made of oak, the windows shrouded with mismatched curtains to keep out the sun. It seemed from the outside to be little too fantastical to be a simple coffeehouse, yet that is what displayed on the wooden swing-sign above the door. 'The Witche's Brew:Coffeehouse for the weary.'An odd sign to match an odder place he supposed, slowly opening the door.

If the outside wasn't strange enough, the inside certainly assured his suspicions. Colors oozed from every corner combined with music that seemed to come from everywhere at once. The people were vibrant in some places, in others rustic but somehow fitting together in some strange way.There was one person in particular that caught his eye, slightly off to the left in front of a prime observatory spot.

She was exotic, almost like a gypsy and an artist pooled their clothes together to make this masterpiece. Everything flowed and moved even though she hadn't. Hdr shape was something that couldn't easily be attained, something that even his client didn't compare to. Her curves were more natural, a part of her rather than something forcibly gained. Her glasses were classic, as much the rest of her was was. A silver pince-nez of exemplary quality. Suddenly he felt like he was staring to hard at her and moved towards the back. As he walked past her he smelled flowers, spices and something more. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. He looked at the oddly normal menu and then at the time. Half past three. Now all he had to do was wait. And maybe glance at the woman a few times in boredom. Maybe.

Devika watched the stranger watch her, out of the corner of her eye. She could feel him looking, which strengthened the feeling that he didn't belong here. So what was he doing here? He could be anyone- or anything... She wasn't the most powerful wizard that ever showed their face at the cafe, but she was the heaviest hitter here at the moment. If something went down, it'd be

"Your drink's up, Miss Dev!" Anny called back from behind the counter. Devika smiled and got up. The drinks here took a while, but they couldn't be beat. Because of all of the magic energy flowing within the shop, any modern device would have been doomed to failure. Instead they used antique coffee grinders, roasters, blenders, and even heated the milk the old fashioned way, over the stove. The process took a while, but the results were worth it. The coffee's taste was sharper, richer, more real. Even with the small crowd it catered to, they bought enough coffee to keep the place well in business. Devika couldn't even drink other coffee anymore.

"Thanks, Anny." She took her drink and sipped it, sighing at the wonderful flavor. "Delicious as always, kid." As casually as possible, she leaned against the counter, casting a half-interested gaze over at the blonde stranger. "...you new in town? Or just... slumming it with the weirdos?"

"...What? No, I'm here on business." He said casually, stifiling any expression that could belie his inner thoughts.

She had approached him, maybe out of interest, maybe because he looked too normal for this place. He did look too normal compared to even the plainest people here. And the first option, well that wasn't entirely unlikely it probably wasn't good on her part. He wasn't any good with women. He'd gone out with a few sure, but he always left them feeling inadequate. He'd never had sex, not even thought about it since his early teens. It just never felt right to him. Something was always lacking and he couldn't tell wether or not it came from him or somewhere else. He shoved himself hader into his work to make up for it, hoping that someday it would feel right and he wouldn't feel like such a limp noodle.

Looking up from the glossy counter he ordered a black coffee from the menu, giving a polite smile to the cashier. The cashier gave him a mildly odd look at him before turning and going into the back to prepare it. He prefered not to be distracted by sugars and creams while on a case. He needed his mind to be sharp in this situation. Well, as sharp as it could be with the exotic gypsy beside him.

Looking past her towards the door he smiled. "What's your business here? Just casual, or something more?" He looked back at the counter, content to stare at its swirls for an eternity, waiting for a response.

Devika's expression did nothing to betray her inner confusion. Business? What kind of business could this man be on, in here? Maybe he was a representative for some coffee company? Maybe he was meeting someone here...

She smiled vaguely at his question, taking another long sip of her drink before she bothered answering. "No business. Just pleasure. This place is my second home." That, and she really was tired of her small apartment. Today was one of those days where she had to get out. She pushed back a lock of her thick curls, winding her fingers through it in an idle way. "What sort of business you on?" Now she was realizing that his question was a little unusual. Not 'how are you' or 'you come here often', but 'what's your business here'. Formal, forceful... and digging for information. Interesting, and suspicious.

She raised her eyebrows at him, a faint smirk quirking her full lips. "Hot date with a punk chick?" She knew that wasn't it, but maybe it'd get him talking.

He looked back at her, incredulous. Hadn't he told her already that he was on business? He looked back down, trying not to glimpse at her reflection.

"Can't say. Client confidentiality." He stated bluntly. He didn't need to divulge anything to her. She wasn't his boss, he was his own master.

Turning his head and leaning past the woman he scanned for any newcomers.

As if on cue someone entered, looking like the physical embodiment of the place. His hair was a mass of spikes clumped together by color and splaying from every angle shrouding half his face in vibrant blues and purples. His clothes were patched together with incosistent thickness and texture, swathed in straps of varying widths. His waist was similarly covered with belts and chains, jangling as far down as his thighs. His pant legs were of different lengths, his shoes and socks of completely different pairs. He looked as though he had crashed into a fashion store and attacked by random patrons on his way here. Was he just another regular or was he the one in the rendezvous with his client's husband? He still had ten or fifteen minutes so he turned back to stare at his own reflection some her. Definitely not the reflection of the woman who neighbored him. Definitely...

Devika raised her eyebrows at the stranger. Client confidentiality? Really? Well, he was making a pretty crappy job of keeping his presence a secret here. He stuck out like a sore thumb, and talked like a cop. She frowned. What if he was a cop? Some kind of plainclothes detective, or something? What was he doing here, then? As far as she knew, these were good people. A little on the wild side, but no one bad.

Pushing a wayward lock of black hair from her face, she smiled and sipped at her drink. "You know, if you're a cop, you're a pretty crappy one. No one in their right mind is going to open up to you, with you acting like that." Years of being on on the stranger side of life had tempered most of this cafe's patrons against authority. It just came with the territory- people saw black lipstick, tattoos and punk hair, and immediately jumped to 'hardened criminal' without stopping to see them as they were. Surely this cop was no different than any other. "Why don't you go hunt witches somewhere else, huh?" Her smile was on her face, but her light brown eyes were filled with a quiet fury. These people were her friends. She wanted to protect them.

The bells jingling at the front door caught her attention, and she turned, looking over the man who'd entered. A real smile came to her face. "Hey Connor. Nice ensemble."

A cop? She thought he was a cop? He probably did look like one with his plain clothing in this crazy place. He shook his head, looking at the way she gently pushed her hair from her face. What she said was probably true, but he couldn't know what to do otherwise. Lucky in cases, unlucky in love his friends teased. He didn't understand why they called him Blackjack, but it fit somehow.

"Er...Hunt witches? What?!" He murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

He had his own thoughts about the occult, but most often he left it out of his professional work. He had the notion that they might, might exist on his strangest days, but they were kept only a part of his thoughts, nothing more. Did this coffeehouse-No he wouldn't believe it. Not without proof. And clothing alone was not enough to prove his suspicions. She suddenly spoke to the entering stranger. In recognition? He had no reason to suspect him yet, but at least he now had a name. He checked his watch again. 7 minutes till...

Curiosity nagged at him. Did she know everyone here? Or just him? Regardless of his involvement or not with his clients husband or not, he was curious. He couldn't resist these urges, not now, not ever. It was his nature to question and be curious, regardless of the consequences.

"What do you know about him? Is it just an acquaintance thing or..." He questioned cautiously. He had to appear casual, especially if she thought he was a cop.

Devika narrowed her eyes at the man in the suit as he continued to ask her questions. The smile was still fixed on her face, but it was icy, and there was anger brewing in the pit of her belly. "What I know about him is none of your business. If you want to know about someone, the kindest thing to do is to ask them yourself." She turned her back on him, and strode up to Connor, keeping her voice low and subtle. "Watch yourself." She didn't pause while walking by, and from behind there would be no indication that she'd even spoken to him at all. Settling at her table, she pulled a book from her purse and pretended to read. In truth, she was calming herself, and keeping an eye on the suspicious cop. This was their place, the witches and wizards and weirdos, and she damn well wasn't going to let the vanilla mortals take it away from them without a fight.

"Well, that could have gone better." he grimaced, muttering under his breath. He had liked her, if only a little, but perhaps it wasn't a good idea. Her irateness had amused him a little, though he didn't want to irritate her further. It was probably too late for that as she left his company. He wasn't blind to her leaning just slightly to mutter something at Connor, though he could not hear what was said.She was protecting him, for some reason or another. Part of him liked that.

The coffee came moments later, the boy doing his best to smile and scowl at the same time before returning to his post. What had he done to deserve that? The coffee was almost as bitter as she was when she left but with unfathomable depth and richness. He didn't get to savour it for long as the telltale jingle of some one entering sounded. His quarry. He smiled widely at his coffee before peeking back to where his prey now sat. Directly across from Connor. Now, what would a white-collar businessman like Joseph Selkes be doing with a man like Connor? Surely, nothing good. He so loved it when a plot came together.

They tried to whisper, but they weren't nearly as good as they thought they were. Even if he had to strain to hear them, it wasn't that hard.

"So, the usual?" said Connor, his voice almost as colorful as the rest of him.

"YES, THE USUAL." the other said monotonously, just a little too loud for Connor's liking. He slapped him on the arm to which Joseph only frowned.

"Pipe down, this is a public establishment! Connor hissed before stating more gently,

"We will continue out back."

He glanced back at Jack, who narrowly avoided his gaze, before he left, Joseph shuffling behind him.

And now, the chase. He waited a moment, finishing his coffee before rising to leave. He paused next to her table, glancing down. She was reading a book, or at least trying to. He couldn't tell by her fustrated face. He didn't know why but he wanted to say something, anything to her before he left. Leaving in silence wouldn't do her justice.

"I think I will introduce myself." He snarked, smirking as he left the cafe to chase his target.

Devika couldn't help but pay attention to the door ringing again. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw another plain looking man enter. In her mind, she was getting irritated- what was this, a preppy businessman convention? She turned her gaze back in the direction of her book, but couldn't help but pick up their conversation. 'The usual'? It sure didn't sound like they were ordering food... A burst of anger swelled in her chest, immediately followed by her reflexive need to get it under control. How dare Connor... didn't he realize he was risking not only his life, but the safety and sanctity of the only Accorded Neutral Grounds in this half of California? How dare he be so selfish! She had to put a stop to it- for everyone's sake. If the mortal got caught with drugs, he'd waste no time in giving up Connor to the police. That could bring down the heat on the entire coffeeshop, just because he went there... She pressed her lips tight together, as she made up her mind. Carefully, almost ritually, she checked each of her pieces of jewelry, making sure they were all ready to go.

And then that obvious cop practically dangled the bait in front of her, all but spelling out his intentions. That about did it for her. Those idiots were going to bring hell down on all these nice practitioners who hadn't done anything wrong! She wouldn't stand for it. Once the cop left, she too, drained her coffee, and exited the cafe. It wasn't hard to pick up the trail of the men. Emotions were running high, leaving three distinct auras for her to follow.

It wasn't long before he caught up with them, they were not lying when they said out back. It seemed a little strange to Jack for them to be dealing in broad daylight, but stranger things had happened. Not that he'd ever speak of them. He hid behind a conveniently angled dumpster, giving him a clear view of the crime. There was something stranger about it. The way everything looked around them was hazy, like a thin film of plastic surrounded them, distorting the light and their features. And yet he could tell it was still Conner and Joseph. He rubbed his eyes and worried about being old and needing to buy glasses. He could barely tell that two plain bags switched places, most probably containing drugs and money respectively. Planning his approach he tensed himself. He had no idea if they were packing weapons, and his eyes were apparently failing him, so he would have to be careful for once. He was never good at being careful. Suddenly Connor rose his voice above a whisper.

"Joese, it seems as if someone has been spying on us."
"You said noone could see us!"
"Well it seems like this birdie has talents. Come out little birdie!" Cooner shouted gleefully, pulling out what seemed to be a rod.

Jack padded himself down, searching for his gun before remembering that he left it in the car. Shit. he still had his knife, concealed against his thigh, but now things had gotten difficult. Connor may be waving a crazy stick around, not much of a threat. Joseph was a different story. He could have a gun, in fact he most likely had one on him given what his client had told him on previous phone calls.How was he going to unfuck himself?

(You're back, whee!)

Devika followed the auras of the three men, starting to pick up into a light trot as she felt magical energy pick up. It went from background noise, a steady but quiet hum, to a sudden crescendo. "Oh, crap..." She brushed her fingertips over a ring on her hand, one with a black gem, and felt the energy of her own magic start to increase. Her boots skidded on the dirt in the alley, as she stepped into view.

With an easy smile and a slight sway of the hips, she smiled at the two men as if Connor wasn't pointing a weapon. She completely ignored the detective behind the garbage can, hoping he'd get the hint and get the hell out. "Oh, Connor! I meant to ask, before you left." She pulled a memory of embarrassment to the forefront of her mind, bringing a blush to her cheeks and a sparkle to her eyes. "I won two tickets to a concert, I thought I'd ask you if you wanted to go..." She smiled, making sure to let her dimples show. "So... ah... how about it?" She leaned forward just enough to make her cleavage a distraction. All she needed was to keep his attention for just a bit.

He heard a voice, her voice, distracting the men and drawing their attention to her. At that moment he thought he saw a goddess in her shape, slyly twisting a ring on her finger. She was helping him, he didn't know why but she was. He thanked her silently as he dashed towards his car.

He had the tools to track him, deftly pulling a camera from the glove compartment he took pictures of Joseph's license plate and car. There was still something going on behind the store. That concerned him.He didn't have enough evidence yet to put the case to rest. He wasn't going to leave until he had enough evidence to put Joseph in his place. He grabbed his standard pistol from under the passenger seat and approached from the other side. Maybe he was crazy, or maybe that moment was the first time he truly believed in magic.

—————————————————

It was going just fantastically for Connor, wizard and fashion aficionado. First his 'client' almosts fucks the gig, then there's this guy, he's sure it's the plain-looking man who was staring at him, hiding somewhere. Sensing others had never been Connor's specialty, but he had to admit he couldn't clearly find where the birdy was.

Then she shows up. Respect is a thing he hoards like gold, and Devika is one of the few who owns a share. He may disagree with her morals, but there was at least mutual camaraderie between them. However, when it came to a gig, respect reached only as far as he could grab, any more distance and one might as well be a stranger. A stranger is what he saw in Devika as she tried to enact her precious morality. He knew how 'were supposed to be quiet about our magic' or somesuch. It sickened him. He should be as bright as he desires, to command fear and fealty upon those of lesser power.

She said something about concert tickets and wanting him to go. That made him angry. Not only was she interrupting his work but she helped the little birdy run away.

"Shut up Devy, I'm working here. Now leave or...hmm well, this will be your final destination." Connor sneered, confident that whatever happened, he would come out on top of it.

Devika looked taken aback, and while her reaction was showy, not all of it was fake. She was surprised Connor had fallen so far. They weren't friends, but she didn't expect him to want to kill her that easily. "C-connor, I just.. I'm sorry." She twisted a finger around a lock of her thick curls, in an idly girlish motion. In truth, she was getting her hand into an easier position for defense. If Connor wanted to threaten her, he'd have to do more than speak. "I really thought... I just thought... you of all people wouldn't mind." Then her eyes flicked, from Connor to the regular looking guy in the suit, to the paper bags. "Oh!" Her face brightened as if she'd suddenly figured something out.

"I didn't know you were already dating someone, Connor. I mean, no judgement, really, but he seems kinda vanilla for someone of your caliber." She continued to play the fool, and was hoping to make Connor either make good on his threat, or force him into backing down. Either way, she was prepped.