"You'll live." Wren's arm reached out from under the blanket and snagged the cup out of her partner's hand. Without spilling a drop, she raised herself on her elbows and took a sip.

"God. I may be human after all." She peered out from under a tangle of dark brown hair at the man standing in the dim light of her bedroom. He looked broad-shouldered and solid and reassuringly familiar. "What time is it?"

"Nine. A.M.," he clarified. "Rough night?" Sergei sat down on the edge of her bed, forcing her to scoot over slightly to make room.

"No more so than usual. The Council came down hard on the piskies who were dragging people under the lake, so there've been some minor temper tantrums in protest, but other than that everything's quiet. Well, quiet for them, anyway."

There had been the equivalent of a gang war in Central Park earlier that Spring between water and earth sprites. Fed up, the city's independent Talents--lonejacks--and the Mage Council had declared truce long enough to make sure things didn't get out of hand again. Wren, like all lonejacks, distrusted the Council on principle, and the Council and their affiliates thought lonejacks all were troublemaking fools, so it was an uneasy truce to say the least.

Wren took another sip of the coffee, and decided that there was enough caffeine in her bloodstream to move without breaking apart. She got out of bed, cup still in hand, and staggered to the dresser to pull out a clean t-shirt.

"You know if the Cosa ever got itself organized..."

"Perish the thought." She ran one hand through her hair and peered at herself in the mirror. "Oh, I look like hell. Thank god I don't have another stint of babysitting for a couple of days. I could sleep for a week..."

Suddenly his presence there clicked, and she turned to glare at him, the effect in no way diminished by the fact that she was naked save for a pair of pink panties.