*******FOREVER*******

Dear Diary,

nothing conclusive about the mangled arm. No work accomplished (but I got my tool back, at last.) Went home early.

And there was a fire in my house while I was twiddling my thumbs. Flat below mine. Something shorted out, and there you are.

No casualties, well, maybe some houseplants, but nothing too awful. (Only the smell.) Owner was out shopping. Girl's in shock, swears she always turns everything off. Don't tell anyone, but I guess she did. I...think it has to do with me. With that chewing toy. That this fire was my last warning, and now the hunt is on.

Give me some advice. Please. I don't know! What's a mental notebook for, if not extra thinking power? Is this because of the glitch? But I've had several before, it's never this bad. Need a plan here! I'm jumping at shadows.

There are lots.

And I'm weaponless. Unless you count a cardboard katana. No? Thought so.

*******FOREVER*******

DD (for short),

bought a pepper spray, an Army knife and a flashlight. Go me. Won't be of any use. I've no idea of self-defence. Please, there has to be something I can do. Someone I can ask for help. Not a relative, natch, not a friend... what friend? Maybe rent a hotel room? No, too many strangers, suspects, can't bear it. And when the night comes, how would I explain myself if anyone tries to contact me?

Nauseous. Gotta clean the cobwebs. Gotta leave the house, once more.

Bye.

Was nice to know you.

*******FOREVER*******

DD,

so I chickened out. Still sitting by the door with my arsenal. Drinking. Beer. Best alcohol format ever.

Maybe I'm just, ha ha, bit not right in the head? Like, my perspective shifted left of unbiased judgement? Who cares about coincidencies, there are so many people in the world, shit happens, pure chance, no rhyme or reason, right?

And I can unclench my fingers from this stupid knife? One by one does it. Here. And then make myself dinner... rest... go out collecting.

Only I have run into some, what to call them, fruitful situations – been shoved into a wall or two for money or, y'know, companionship I didn't want – I escaped, it was all right, honestly, but, but there was just this feeling. Like 'I'm great! Let's have coffee!' is, like, a role, and 'I'm so screwed! Let's go with whiskey!' is another role, and there's nothing I can actually do that isn't a script to follow. I want there to be something that doesn't leave a 'smile and wave' aftertaste.

Seems like I need something totally out of the left field. Like, something I've never tried before.

Oh, wait, gotta answer my phone.

...

That was Greg. We're cleared to go to work tomorrow. What fun! Here's hoping I am still kicking at 9 am. Wonder what they will tell Doc if I'm not in? Maybe I should just talk to him, say my goodbyes. Doc's not a bad sort, he'll pass them on to everybody, better than I would. Yep. Great start! And then we can get on with plotting.

...

Wow. Doc's picking me up in twenty. Guy really hates technology, if he can't stand five minutes on the phone! So, where were we... alliterating...

*******FOREVER*******

DD,

Doc really can't let me have the last word. Even my own last word. Whatever.

He made it in fifteen, so I kinda was still in the bathroom when he nearly broke down my door. He and an old friend of his, Abe, who apparently lives to do imaginative things to traffic laws.

Almost gave me a heart attack, these two.

Almost pumped my stomach, too. No way, I like my beer inside.

Long story short, I was disarmed, scarved, capped & invited for dinner. (Is that British for something?) Tried to explain why this is a rotten idea, but they flat out refused to listen. Out of the way! Henry Morgan's on a mission!

BTW, Doc's looking scared, for some reason. Poor bastard. What's to be scared about? When I'm out of his hair, everything's going to be peachy.

Anyways, sorry, feeling a bit carsick. Abe musta been a racer, in his day. (Today he's just an antique dealer with a death wish. Going out with style.)

See you.

A/N: shorter chapter this time, but the next one will have Lucas explaining his situation to Henry and Abe. Poor Lucas. I'm already intimidated.