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"There's something about her eyes... Paul thought to himself as he tried to figure out exactly what his subconscious was screaming about. Even though Ms. Gretchen was smiling and offering what amounted to tantalizing looks in his direction, it never quite reached her eyes. People say that the eyes are the windows to the soul and if Gretchen's windows were any indication then she had a very dirty house. Of course, who was he to judge? He had robbed and even killed when necessary. The moment that Mr. Blob seized her hands, the curtains were momentarily drawn back and he saw a flash of the darkness within. It was only for a moment before she blinked and once again shaded the opening but it was enough. He had survived wars, living on the streets, and working with some of the shadiest characters in Europe. He knew the eyes of a killer when he saw them and for that one moment, Gretchen had revealed the truth.

Her self-control was impressive and even something that he could partially admire. Where he had only moments before seen murder he now could only see incredulity as she looked over at him as though silently asking if he could really believe what the blob had called the two of them. Suddenly the gloved hand that was holding his own seemed to change into a claw that held him tightly and drew him even closer to the woman he was trying to escape from. Her attention was no longer on him as she flirted with the big man but it was obvious from her grip that she had no plans on letting him go. Things were very quickly becoming desperate and any avenues of escape that Paul had been thinking about were beginning to close.

The crowd was dancing and cutting loose all around them so no one really noticed when the big man let out a gasp followed by a groan and slowly sank to his knees with his large hands moving down to cup the most tender area of his anatomy. "An assassin... it's the only thing that fits." Paul's mind suddenly settled on. And since he had never known an assassin that simply went to a party for the fun of it that meant that this woman was after someone. She had a target of some kind. Paul's eyes narrowed slightly as he stood up straight and tall and scanned the room around him. Petty criminals were everywhere but he had only seen two people that he would classify as major players. One was the bird brain who he located rather easily because of the feathers that stuck up above the crowd but the other was a certain blond woman that he was beginning to feel some sort of loyalty towards. A certain blond woman whose diminutive stature made her almost impossible to find in the surging masses that moved and pulsed along with the music.

As Gretchen was turning away from big man to put her attention back on him, it was time for a decision. Did he steer her toward the feathered dunce that he hoped was her target but was also a little too close to where he had last seen Lori, or did he try to steer her away to the other side of the building in order to try and protect the blond?

“Very nicely handled.” Paul complimented, offering the most sincere smile he could pull off while stepping closer and bringing their hands up so that they were now linked at the elbow while he held both their hands up against the breast of his tailored white sport coat, “Shall we go get that drink now?” There had been one final bit of information that, once processed, had made up the decision. Over at the drink tables there were many glass bottles that could be used as a weapon to take out Ms. Murder if she set her sights on the wrong person. Since he had been foolish enough to come without any sort of weapon, it was important he be near something he could use. And if Feather Boy was her target and Paul inadvertently brought her closer to her goal, so be it.

Without bothering to wait for any words of acceptance, Paul began to move through the crowd, his own hand now tightly gripping the lace covered hand that had only moments before been a claw holding him. The claw loosened as they walked, seemingly because Gretchen had decided he was not trying to escape her clutches but as they walked Paul could have sworn that the light, delicate hand within his was moving ever so slightly, almost stroking or caressing his own hand. It was enough to send cold chills running up and down his spine though somehow he managed to keep from visibly shuddering. She was playing this up to the fullest though Paul now knew for sure that this was simply a game and a part of his mind was even telling him that Gretchen knew he had come to that conclusion. Somehow she knew that he knew something was off and that was the reason she had clung to him from the beginning. He couldn’t be allowed out of her sight because he knew something that could not be let out as public knowledge… not yet. For the moment she seemed happy to let him be half a pace ahead of her, leading the way and clearing a path through the crowd.

Out of the blue as they walked, Paul’s eyes connected with those of Lucas. He had been hoping that his “wingman” hadn’t wandered too far off and low and behold he hadn’t. He was standing right by the drink table, looking back in their direction and thankfully there didn’t seem to be any blond women in his near vicinity. That meant Lori was off the hook for the moment though it most certainly didn’t mean she was safe. After all, in this crowd, safety could never be assured. Throwing what he hoped was a meaningful look in Lucas’ direction; Paul made a beeline for him and the alcoholic beverages that were being served. He needed to get something into this woman that would throw her off her game because for the moment she was still in the lead and the play clock was swiftly ticking down.

Apparently the detective was ready to get right down to business and that was just fine with Paul. It was only polite to officer refreshments in this sort of establishment. Wasn't it? Laying that train of thought aside, Paul set down his paper and waited patiently as the detective took a seat and then opened a file he was carrying and began to examine it. After flipping through a couple of pages the man pulled out a large photo which he placed on the table in front of Paul.

"A warehouse? This is about some warehouse?" Paul thought as he gave the photo a careful perusal. At first he didn't think he recognized the site but something was nagging at the back of his mind. Leaning back in his chair, Paul focused on the picture for several moments, his brow furrowing ever so slightly in concentration. "It could be most any place but for some reason it seems familiar..." He mused quietly as he tried to place exactly what he was seeing. Suddenly out of nowhere the image clicked and Paul realized exactly why there was a police detective sitting across from him. THIS was about dead bodies!

"I think I've seen this place down in the Brooklyn area." Paul spoke up as he raised his eyes to meet the brown ones that were studying him from across the table, "I go jogging down there sometimes so I've probably seen it as I passed though, if I remember correctly, there are a lot of warehouses in that area. Is there something special about this one?"

Setting the photo back down Paul studied the detective as he waited for a response. He knew what was special about this particular warehouse but there was no way that he would offer that sort of information. He was just starting to get to know the Order and what they were about and he would never compromise that sort of trust. Besides, it wasn't like the men that had been killed were the innocent sort. They had attacked Lori first and then even attacked him. No, there was no guilt for his decision. He had killed at least one of those men and while he himself had been murdered as well, that at least wasn't a permanent condition.

While he sat their waiting for Cervantes' reply, one question kept popping up in his mind. "How did they connect me to this?" All of his valuables and identification had been consumed during his rebirth, at least as far as he knew, and from the vibes he'd gotten from Lori there was no way she would try to pin this on him. She had thought he was dead for crying out loud. So what else could it be?

The bakery was busy but not completely packed out this particular morning. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and freshly baked pastries filled the air along with the quiet chatter of early morning conversation. Small two person tables ran along the walls with larger four person booths taking up the center of the eating area. The large open pane windows let in plenty of morning light giving the space and cheery feel. Though there were only two registers to handle all the customers, the experienced servers kept things moving. The owners worked in the kitchen itself as they did every morning, putting together all the wonderful baked goods that would keep them in business for the day.

Paul had not been expecting to be contacted by the police. As far as he had known he wasn’t even on their radar so a call from someone named Detective Cervantes had been a complete surprise. Thankfully the man had been relatively cordial on the phone and they had set up a meeting. While this particular bakery was very normal for his routine due to the fact that he lived right above it, his attire for the morning wasn’t. Most of the time he would come down in jogging clothes, have a light breakfast, and then head out for a run. Today he had chosen to dress a little better to hopefully promote the idea that he was nothing more than a simple law abiding citizen that might have gotten caught up in the wrong thing. Of course, the fact that he had no idea what this meeting was about did worry him a tad.

“Could it be the party the other night?” Paul murmured to himself as glanced back and forth from his paper to the door, waiting for someone official looking to arrive, “I know I’ve been making contacts on the streets but I haven’t done anything illegal. At least, not knowingly.”

His mind was racing as he tried to come up with what might be the issue though he didn’t feel particularly nervous. Concerned maybe but most definitely not nervous. Mentally reassuring himself that everything was fine Paul lifted his black coffee and took a sip of the still warm liquid. His plain gray sneakers led up to denim jeans that let just a hint of white tube socks peak through. A dark blue button up shirt tucked neatly into his pants with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows to show relaxation and a gray undershirt peaking out at the throat to show neatness. Appearances were always important and since Paul didn’t want to bring any problems down on himself that might get passed on to the Order they were even more important today than usual.

“Almost nine… he should be here soon.” Paul noticed as he glanced up at the clock hanging over the front entrance. Soon he would know exactly what the situation was… very, very soon.

Apparently the plan to lay low for a while was working because Lori was distracted enough that she didn't even see him as she walked by the stairs. Of course, the fact that feather brain on the top floor was shouting out speeches loud enough to be heard over the roaring music was more than enough to distract most people.

"That must be Tony... interesting."

While Tony was the host of the party, Paul had already noticed that Lori had been in close proximity to Mr. Feather. That more than likely meant that they were acquaintances of some type if not some sort of partner. The blond was continuing on toward the drink table and as he scanned the building one more time he suddenly heard a voice yelled out very close to his ear.

"Excuse me. Do you have a pen and paper I could borrow? I think I just saw Lady Gaga and I want to try to get her autograph."

Blue eyes met brown eyes with a quizzical expression before once again turning to sweep over the room. Lady Gaga? At an underground mutant party? Would she really come to something like that? For a moment Paul was silent, trying to figure out who this man might have thought was Lady Gaga when suddenly his gaze locked on a woman dressed in an old style black dress that stood out in the crowd.

"What the..."

Shaking his head with a slight chuckle Paul reached into his white sport coat and pulled out a pen and small note pad that he handed over to the other man with a grin. "Good eyes. I don't know how I missed that. My name's Paul." He yelled back loud enough for the other man to hear over the noise, "I never would have expected to see her here."

If he was going to be completely honest then Paul would have to say that he had actually never listened to any of her music. In fact he had only seen pictures of her in the paper whenever she made the news and that particular woman seemed to fit in the type of clothing that Gaga wore. But something was nagging at his subconscious. There was something strange about that woman but since he couldn't quite grasp what it was he simply rejected the idea as the woman's pure Gaganess coming through.

"Mind if I walk over with you? I've never seen a star up close before."

If you're still looking for a party member than I'd be glad to jump in. Paul might not be a huge partier himself but parties are a great place to gather information. :-)

Thanks to all for the welcome and warm wishes.

@ Ashton: We definitely need to arrange a head slap thread. Perhaps, just to be different, we should have Ashton head slap Paul first? ;-)

@ Jorge: I look forward to some RP in the future. Shoot me a PM if you have any ideas that pop into your head.

@ Shula: RPing with other NCIS characters definitely goes toward the top of my list of things to do. PM me if you have any ideas on how we could meet up.

@ Aura: Testing Paul's rebirth is fun though its something you'll have to jump on before he gets to friendly over at the Sanctuary. If you've got any ideas on what might 'cause her to want to kill him, shoot me a PM.