Another chapter, a bit of a filler, but contains important information :) Hope you enjoy it. There's a part that can be read as Jassandra, if you squint, but wasn't intended as such.

Eve Baird had heard a lot about Eliot Spencer.

Everybody in the business knew his name. He was the shadow in the dark, the lurking death. She had never seen his face, she had heard rumors that Eliot Spencer wasn't his real name, even rumors about freak science experiments granting him superhuman strength. She didn't believe in conspiracy theories, but she believed in the facts and the facts stated that Eliot Spencer was one of the most dangerous predators out there. Just the list of the people he had worked for contained some of the worst scum on the Earth. Nobody knew the precise body count, but Eve wouldn't be surprised if it was over a hundred.

When she heard that Spencer went out of business, she thought it was just another rumor. People like him didn't retire and they most certainly didn't change their ways. But during the coffee shop meeting he seemed tame, accepting her threat without threatening her back, keeping the situation calm. So, just to make sure, Eve called an old friend.

"Vance," a male voice barked on the other end of the line.

"Hi, Mike, this is Eve, Eve Baird."

"Well, ain't this a ray of sunshine in a shitty day. How are you, Eve?"

"If I told you, I would have to kill you," she joked. "Listen here, I need a favor."

"Anything for my pretty lady."

"Eliot Spencer. What do you have on him?"

There was a long silence. "That's a long story," said Vance finally. "Most of it is classified."

"I don't need the details, I just want to know what was he doing in the past couple of years. Word is that he's retired."

"Yes and no. He's not for hire anymore, he's running with a crew. Thieves, con artists, this sort of things. I guess they are doing some kind of vigilante work, they have taken down some big fish in the past few years. They were run by an ex-insurance investigator, but now it's just Spencer, a hacker and a cat burglar. And they are good, the best, actually," Vance added.

"Thanks, Mike, I owe you one."

"Eve? I don't know what is this about, but if you've met them... let them do the job. You won't regret it."

She paused. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I know you care more about justice than technicalities. Ride safe, Eve."

"You too, Mike. And thanks."

So the stories were true and Eliot Spencer became a Robin Hood. That was good, it meant that he wouldn't turn on them. They were mostly safe.

The next big problem was – should she tell Jacob?

The next day Jacob decided to check on Cassandra, to see how she was recovering from her invisibility spell stunt. He found her sitting in her lab, massaging her temples, her face showing pain.

"Cassie? Are you okay?"

She looked up and attempted a smile. "Yeah, I'm peachy."

"You don't look peachy." She was pale and there were dark circles under her eyes.

"It's just the magic," she sighed. "It's pretty exhausting and the brain grape doesn't like it. Hence the nosebleed and the headaches."

Cassandra got up to pour herself a glass of water. Jacob watched her and felt just as powerless as the day Eliot left. He knew Cassandra was slowly dying and he didn't forget her words about choosing her last day, only on days like these it felt real and he dreaded losing her. A lot of people had trouble seeing past the cute and bubbly, but there was so much more to Cassandra. She was the first of them who actually had the guts to stand up to Eve, she was willing to stand up to ghosts and serial killers and tentacle monsters that drove other people mad. Cassandra always made her own way in the world and it was a privilege to know her and a torture to watch her die.

"Is the magic making things worse?" he asked.

"Hard to tell. I don't think it's speeding things up, it just makes life more uncomfortable. But it's impossible to be sure without a CAT scan."

"So we get you a CAT scan," said Jacob. "Where can you get one?"

He sat down at her computer and moved the mouse to wake the machine up. The browser was open and the loaded page was a forum. It took a couple of seconds before Jacob realized what he was looking at. "The Lake Forum? That secret girl cult?"

She gave him a reproachful look. "You have your hobbies, I have mine. These women have really interesting things to say."

"You're doing more magic than we see, aren't you? Practicing spells in secret? That's why the spell took so much from you, because you weren't fully charged to begin with," he accused her.

"So what? That's my problem." She stood up, stepped back and took a defensive stance.

"What if it's hurting you?" He couldn't get rid of the image of her the day before, all bloodied, limp in Hardison's arms.

"Look, I appreciate the concern," she said irritably, "but it's my life. I'm dying anyway and I want to live before it happens. So mind your own business."

"I'm just worried about you," he told her.

"Everybody is," she said bitterly. "So worried about me that they forget to ask me what I want."

He opened his mouth to tell her that was not true, but she interrupted him.

"Just leave, Jacob. Please. Leave."

This is exactly why I installed the thermocameras in the vents, Hardison thought as he was browsing the images from the vents of the brewery, looking for an heat signature of a human body on said thermocameras. Oh, there she is.

When Parker was upset, she was usually sulking somewhere in the vents. Thanks to the cameras he could find her and he had already seen that her earbud was online.

"Come down, mama," he said. "Found you."

"Not coming down," she protested.

"Still upset about Ezekiel Jones?" The silence was all the answer Hardison needed. "I have something to cheer you up, but I can't give it to you while you're up there," he continued.

"What is it?"

"Ezekiel Jones' address and schematics of his security system. Now, are you coming down or not?"

"You need to call you brother!" Jones barked at Jacob the first thing next morning.

Jacob looked up from the manuscript he was reading. "What are you talking about?"

"Parker broke into my apartment. I need you to call him and tell him to return the thing she stole."

"Who stole what?" asked Eve who just arrived.

"The thief girl running around with Stone's brother. She was at my place last night and I need her to give back what she stole."

Jacob frowned a little. Jones looked seriously freaked out, which was quite unusual.

"What did she take?" asked Jacob.

"Just a tiny thing from my safe, but I need it back."

"What was it?"

Jones sighed in defeat. "The dreidel."

"Are you kidding me?" Jacob ran his finger through his hair. "You mean now she can find anything she wants?"

"Of course not, she wound have to figure out how it works. But I took it from the Library, so it's my responsibility. I need her to give it back!"

"Oh no, no, no," Eve called from her desk. "Stone is not cleaning up your mess. You lost the dreidel, you get it back. You're a master thief, aren't you? Steal it back!"

Jones muttered something about having to do everything himself around here and stalked off. Jacob and Eve exchanged glances across the room and they both smiled.

Three days later, Eliot was chopping onions in the Brewpub's kitchen, when he realized there's another person in the room. He turned around and found himself face to face with a tall, thin woman with short ginger hair.

"Do you need anything, ma'am?" he asked, giving his voice just enough hostility to suggest that she's not welcome without actually being rude.

"Actually, I have a job proposal for you, Eliot Spencer," she said with a slightly fake smile. "I need you to find someone. I don't know what name she goes by these days, but I know people you can use to find her. She runs something called a Lake Forum. These," she produced four folders from her handbag, "are people I know have been in contact with her."

"I'm not in the business any more," Eliot turned back to his onions.

She reached in her handbag again and slid an envelope to Eliot. "You will be when you see my offer."

"You don't have enough money to buy me."

"It's not money. Look."

Life taught Eliot to not ignore sentences like this. He wiped his hands and opened the envelope. When he saw what was in, he felt like he was going to be sick.

It was pictures, photos of a man who looked a lot like Eliot – except his hair was short and the lines in his face were a bit different. Some of the photos were taken on the street, but a couple of them were from a living room, from a bedroom, and judging by how comfortable he was there, it was his home.

"Your reward will be Jacob Stone's life. All your instructions are in these," she laid the folders neatly on the counter. "You have three weeks before I come after him."