A/N: It's mostly because I love the Avalon Harmonia character – and Cindy Lauper who played her – from Bones. Whenever I think of smart women from a big city, I think of her. A comment from a reviewer said they could see Avalon showing up randomly in other series. I agreed – I had the same thought. I just rewatched the entire NYPD Blue series. I loved the end. But in the last episode, Sipowicz pissed off the Chief of Detectives doing the right thing. I could just see Avalon showing up …

Stephanie … no, Avalon … looked at her new driver's license with satisfaction.

She had spent a couple of years working to get her name legally changed. It would have been quicker but she had to come back to New York for birth records, get herself established as a psychic, and thus justify the need for the name change.

Her real reason she had taken a new name was because she and her sister had permanently parted ways and she needed to make her own identity completely separate. Most people who were not twins didn't understand how that formed the stable foundation of their identity.

Taking a new name was her way of forming an identity which was hers and no one else's.

She still had plans to go back to DC – that was her home – but New York had allowed her to redefine herself.

And now that it was all final, she was out celebrating.

She looked around the bar she had wound up at. It wasn't that crowded. As a rule, she didn't drink much – that blocked some of her perceptions. But one or two would be okay.

She sat down and looked around. She noticed the pictures and the flags and the other memorabilia – this was a cop bar. New Yorkers knew that bars like this were opened by retired officers and they became hangouts for off duty cops.

Anyone could come in, but the bar catered to cops.

One advantage of such bars was that they were rarely robbed – what kind of a moron robbed a bar with off-duty cops hanging around? Besides, she liked good cops. And most cops, at the end of a day, were of the decent sort.

She sat down at the bar. The bartender came over. "What can I get you?"

She smiled and said, "You know how to make a Sidecar?"

The bartender thought about it. "I could do that." He looked dubious.

She waved him off. "Yeah – that's kind of froo-froo, ain't it? How 'bout just give me a sweet martini. That's a lot simpler."

The bartender grinned. "Yeah. I was racking my brain on what to use instead of the orange liqueur which I don't normally got." Pretty quickly the man mixed up her martini and set it on the bar. She put her money on the bar and picked up the drink.

She looked around, sipping her drink and watching people. She liked watching people.

A bit later, an older man in a suit came in and sat down. Avalon immediately noticed that he was pissed off. He sat down at the bar near her and waited for the bartender, stewing.

The bartender had noticed the man and hurried over. "What can I get you, Chief?"

The man blinked – he hadn't been aware of the room. Avalon answered for him, "Scotch neat, water back."

The Chief looked at her and blinked and then looked at the bartender and nodded. He moved to provide. The Chief looked back at her. "How did you know?"

She shrugged. "You seem annoyed. A man like you comes in at the end of the day but before the shift change, you probably need something to settle you out. But not too much because you have to go and deal with whatever annoyed you – you can't afford to get drunk. So a single shot with some water to chase it sounds like just the thing."

The bartender set the scotch and water down. As the Chief reached for his wallet, Avalon waved him off. She took the change she had gotten back and pushed it over. "This'll cover his plus a little extra."

The Chief looked at her curiously. "You know who I am?"

"Nah. I'm not even a cop – just out having a drink to celebrate something. He called you Chief and this is a cop bar, so you're some kind of muckity muck. But it don't matter to me." She flashed a small grin at him. "Maybe someone else buying while not lookin' for nothin' from you might cheer you up."

The Chief smiled a bit. "Yes. I will admit that it's nice. So thank you."

"You're welcome!" She took a sip of her drink. "Not to annoy you again but can I ask?" The Chief looked at her and nodded. "What's the name of your annoyance?"

The Chief looked like he was going to not answer but she said, "Just between me and you and the bar. It's not like I even really know who you are. And I'm going back to DC soon so you won't even see me."

"DC? You're a politician?"

"Heavens no!" She grinned at him. "I'm a psychic." She winked at him and took a drink.

"Really?" he asked, a dubious tone.

"Sure. Avalon Harmonia. Nice to meet you."

The man chuckled. "James Duffy. NYPD Chief of Detectives." He took a sip of his scotch. "If you're a psychic – who's annoying me?"

"I'm a psychic – not a mind reader." They laughed together. She could read minds if she absolutely had to – but better not to say that. "Give me a name. I'll keep it to myself."

The man sighed. "Sipowicz. Sergeant Sipowicz."

She looked at him. "A new boss?" He nodded. "You know – you really shouldn't take it personal."

"Take what personal?" he asked, curiosity in his voice.

"The guy didn't do what he did to annoy you. He did it because he's got to live with himself – and back up his people. You want a group of people who will just be quiet or who'll do the job? Quiet is easier – but right now, his standing up firmed up that entire squad to him. They'll walk across water and through fire if he told them he needed them to. And when it comes to it, they'll remember who made him the boss. Just because somebody else will think their toes are stepped on, he did what he had to."

Duffy sighed. "You think I should let it go?"

She snorted. "You cops don't let things go – especially not old school cops like you and this guy. You keep tallies. You put him up because he's got too many tallies that you and other people owe him – he can't be ignored. So he uses up a few to get you to agree to put him where he is. But here's the thing: He's loyal to the people who do right by him. You want someone loyal on your terms – he's loyal on his. You can't change it. But right now, he knows you're pissed. You need a solid? He'll do it. Not to buy you either. He's not what you want – but he's what you need."

Duffy looked like he was considering that. He took a drink. "The damn thing about that is I think you're right. He is what I need there. I just wish he was more accommodating to what else I run into."

"Nice dream. Where he is will be as quiet as it has to be. Worry about Queens. There's something out in Flushing which will be a black eye."

"You know something?" Duffy asked suspiciously.

She shrugged and finished her martini. "Know? That's a big word. I'm a psychic. You're gonna be dealing with Queens in less than a year. You'll be happy that Manhattan is kept quiet by this guy while that goes down."

She stood up, putting on her wrap. "Start keeping a look out there. Stop worrying about here. That's the best advice I can give."

She turned and started to walk out. A voice gave her pause. "Can I ask a question?"

"Sure," she answered looking back.

"How well do you know Sipowicz?"

She shrugged. "I never met him. Psychic, remember?" She winked at him and walked out.