Logan flipped a page in his book and took another sip of his bitter coffee. Over the rim of his cup he watched his flat mate Patton fill out a small stack of papers as he chewed on some crustless toast with a thick layer of grape jam on top. It was Logan's jam but he had allowed Patton to get into it, only because Patton had had a late night and Logan knew that Patton would probably get him another jar later.

Roman, another faltemate, suddenly zipped into the kitchen and snatched a sausage off Logan's plate. He riffled through cupboards frantically as he stuffed it in his mouth. Logan had learned not to care about his flatmates stealing his food but he was still a bit disgruntled.

"If you've lost your sanity again, I don't think you'll find it up there," Logan snarked.

"Where are the lemons?" Roman ignored him.

"I ate the last one yesterday." Virgil seemed to apparate into the room.

Roman pulled his head out of the cupboard. "You what?"

"I ate the last one."

"You ate it."

"Yeah. Like an orange. It's good for you."

Everyone paused what they were doing to look at their dark flatmate with a mix of respect and fear. Virgil pretended not to notice as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

"I'll pick a few up during my lunch break," ever the peacemaker Patton offered.

"Thank you, Patton," Roman ran his hand through his hair. "I have an audition today and my throat feels terrible."

"Are you sick?" Logan asked.

"No, but it still doesn't feel good."

Roman was a performer at the local theater but recently hadn't been getting the roles he would have preferred. He was currently in the middle of a tech week for a play where he played a dog. He hated it but only complained to his flatmates. He was vying to get a lead role in this new play the theater was prepping to put on: the Odd Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde.

"Take a deep breath, Roman. You'll do great!" Patton assured.

"No he won't," Virgil debated in his mind whether he should eat or not. "He'll fall flat on his face as he walks up the steps. Then the directors will laugh and never take him seriously."

Roman moaned and buried his face in his hands.

"Virgil, that's not true," Patton put down his pen. "Also, there is an extra peace of toast on the counter there I made for you."

Virgil mumbled something that sounded like "Thanks, Dad" and spread some butter on the toast.

Logan checked his pocket watch and stood up. "Patton, we'll be late for work. And you need to open your office on time."

"It's Picani's turn today," Patton said, but started to put his papers into his briefcase anyway.

"Yes, but knowing Picani he probably will be late because he stayed up organizing his toy collection."

Patton tilted his head. "Granted."

The phone rang. Roman shot across the kitchen but Virgil was quicker and had already picked up the receiver.

"Hello? Yes, this is him... Mhm... Again?... Okay, I should be there in ten minutes." He hung up the ear peice.

"What was that about?" Logan asked.

"Not only did we have five old people brought in just in the past few days but now we have a murdered girl to plan a funeral for as well."

Virgil was a mortician. The thing he detested most about his job was the funerals for murdered people. He already didn't like being around crying people but at murder funerals always made him louder around the house for the rest of the week. Well, loud in his own way. He'd talk less but often you'd know where he was by the slamming doors and heavy footsteps that declared his presence.

Not that there were many funerals for homocide victims. But still the occasional made Virgil's job a little more unsavory. Logan recalled walking into the flat and flipping on the lights only to find a Virgil lying face up on the couch with the front of his black shirt crusty and glued to chest, outlining his thin sickly body. After a concerned comment Virgil had informed Logan that he was alright, just got between two people who thought the other had killed the corpse and was given a bloody nose for his pains.

But Patton had started suspecting that it wasn't the only reason Virgil was searching for a new job. He recalled his own memory of Virgil. Back when they first met. He was even sicklier then and the straight jacket that bound him was a size too big. The matted greasy black mess of hair covered his eyes but didn't quite cover the large dark bags under them. Patton was a therapist and had been called in to talk to Virgil and see if he could "fix his mind". Patton figured out quickly that Virgil wasn't insane, just darker and different. With the help of an old college friend (aka Logan) they had gotten him out and helped him get back on his feet. Logan and Patton already shared an apartment and one of the conditions of getting Virgil out was that they had to take care of him until he fully proved he was mentally stable. When they had moved to a bigger flat they became flatmates with Roman, Virgil had just gone with them. They had earned his trust by then even though it had taken time and chasing him around the city several times after he tried to run away.

They had tried to figure out where he had come from and who he was before the police had picked him up and handed him over to the asylum but every time they asked he would shut down and not speak to them for the rest of the day. But the look Virgil got in his eyes whenever he said murder suggested he had a... different background. And the way he always looked over his shoulder clearly said he had enemies. The only thing they had gotten him to say about himself was his first name. They gave him his middle and last when he was finally stable enough to start searching for work.

Patton started out of his thoughts when Logan waved a hand in front of his face. "Pat, did you hear me?"

Patton smiled. "Yes?"

"What did I say?"

"I'm going to be late?"

"Yes, now come on."

Score.

Patton put on his light grey suit jacket and finished tying the light blue necktie that hung around his neck. Logan waited by the door patiently as Patton swept his dishes into the sink and scurried over. Logan handed him the briefcase he knew Patton was forgetting and Patton hurried out of the flat ahead of him. Logan closed the door behind him, pushed his glasses into place, and followed Patton, who, despite being in his early thirties, was skipping down the street like a child, his spectacles flashing in the sun.

"Hey, Logan!" Logan looked over his shoulder at Roman who stuck his head out of the door. "Someone's called you on the telly."

Logan frowned. "Get their name and number and I'll call them back tonight."

"He says it's an emergency."

Logan raised an eyebrow and went back into the flat. Who would be calling him on his apartment phone with an emergency? A family member? Did someone die?

When he walked through the kitchen Virgil was lying on the floor sipping his coffee. An odd feat that he was doing quite well if you ignored the growing stain on his collar. Logan stepped over him and reach for the phone, the receiver lying on the counter next to it.

"Hello?"

"Is this Logan L Gandhi?" The man on the other side of the line talked slowly and his voice was quiet and raspy as if their throat was sore.

"Yes. Who is this?"

There was a pause.

"Python Delphi."

Interesting name.

"I was told this was an emergency."

"Oh, yes. I have a situation that I need your help with."

"Will this require my skills in law?"

"Yes."

"Then why didn't you call my office phone?"

"This is a very personal matter I would rather not have show up in the papers or, if it can be helped, the courtroom either."

Logan thought about this. "Alright. What is this matter?"

"I'd rather not say it over the phone for fear of someone listening in. Can we meet in person? With Dr..." he paused, seeming to be searching something, "Patton M Lovegood as well?"

Logan paused. "Why would you need Dr Lovegood?"

"I assure you I will tell you when we meet in person."

"Okay. Well, I'm not sure if Dr Lovegood and I have a time slot at the same time today. Would another day work?"

"No, I'm sorry. I need to talk to you as soon as possible," the man's voice seemed to be fighting pleading but it was obvious he was desperate. "Please. This is very important."

Logan tapped his fingers on the table and said slowly "I'm sure Dr Lovegood wouldn't mind giving up a bit of his lunch break, if about that time works for you."

"That would be wonderful, thank you."

"Alright, Dr Lovegood and I will be in my office at one o'clock. I trust you know how to get there?"

"Yes, thank you, Doctor."

The phone clicked and Logan hung the receiver on the hook.

"You two need to get to work," he told Roman and Virgil who had started to bicker quietly while he was on the phone.

Virgil grumbled as he tied his bow tie around the stained collar he couldn't be bothered to change. "Yes, mom."

When Logan caught up to Patton he told him about the appointment. Patton, of course, didn't mind.