Morose entered the diner, pushing open the door and holding it for Jex. They were just the odd pair to walk into the diner so late in the night. A freak and a rag tag homeless man. Morose walked, hands in pockets, his waxed rose had been tucked behind his ear, despite the thorns, and nodded to one of the waitresses. He lead Jex over to a booth and seated himself.

He picked up a menu. “Anything you want,” The teen told Jex. The waitress came and asked what they would have to drink. “A coffee. Black.” He looked at Jex. He and the other homeless man had some business to talk over now. Yes, Morose too, was homeless.

The waitress was looking at him expectantly.

Uh-oh, I wonder if they remember me.

The last time he had come here, Jex had failed to produce enough change to pay for his meal. That had resulted in some interesting experiences...

"A coffee as well, please."

It would be interesting to see what Morose had in store for him. He had seen some rather odd requests, but as long as they were legal with pay greater than five dollars Jex wasn't one to argue.

Something from his examination of Morose kept nagging at his attention. So he ventured into what he hoped wasn't dangerous territory.

"Would my job have something to do with that lovely rose?"

"Would my job have something to do with that lovely rose?"

that lovely rose

Morose smiled. It wasn't a normal smile, the kind that people share when their happy, or approving something, or showing ammusment. It was a sad, almost mourning smile. He waited for the waitress to leave, then traced random pictures on the table top with one finger.

"Yes."

Simple word. Then he put his other hand on the table top and folded his hands, leaning forward slightly.

"Your job, and how I'll pay you, will not be normal...that is, if you accept the job." He began. "You see, while your homeless, so am I." He paused to see Jex's reaction.

Oh, to say the least, he was slightly taken aback. Well that's certainly different. Who's ever heard of the homeless employing the homeless?

It wasn't the most bazaar thing, he supposed. In any case, Morose seemed better off than he. Perhaps a few secrets could be shared as well as whatever form of pay his new friend decided on.

"Perhaps," Jex thought before carefully choosing his next words, "this new arrangement will work in both our favors then?"

"Indeed." Morose replied.

"I would be employing you to do a fairly simple job. It requires being able to read. Can you?" It wouldn't be the first time he'd run into someone who couldn't read. "And I would pay you with eaither cash or food and clothing. Whichever works best for you." He said this while leaning back as the waitress came and placed their coffee infront of them. She asked if they would need anything else. Morose ordered a bowl of hot soup, whatever they were making tonight, then looked to Jex.

For a moment he was almost sorry that he had brought up the subject of the rose, but it soon passed. You couldn't go around afraid that you would step on someone's feelings. Besides, it was probably good for Morose to be confronted with them every once and a while.

"Oh, umm, I'll have half a turkey sandwich." She wrote it down and left.

"My stomach won't be able to handle a lot of food after going so long without it." He grinned sheepishly and explained.

This new job most definately seemed to be looking in his favor. Everything that was offered was something he needed, so he had to be careful what he asked for. It wouldn't do to impose, now would it?

"Would a little bit of each option be too much to ask? I don't need much to live on, so I hopefully wouldn't be imposing."

Then he decided that it didn't matter what he got in return, so long as it was something.

"And yes, I can read. What would I need to do?"

"No. It would not." Morose took hold of the coffee cup, but as the steam warned him off, he didn't drink it yet, least he scorch his mouth.

"You also can not be frightened to go into cemeteries." Oh how many of those people he'd run into. What's the big deal about walking through a cemetery at night? All the occupents are dead! "See. Your job will be to help me read the headstones. I'm looking for a specific one. Andrew Fletcher."

He blew on the coffee and chanced a drink, buring his tongue in the process. He didn't whince or curse, but inside he chidded himself. "That's all you need to do. I don't do this in the day time because I always run into busy bodies or cemetery keepers who like to follow me around."

Jex took a swig of his coffee. Not a large one, but just enough to feel that slightly pleasent burning heat that would slide down his throat.

Cemetaries?

Oh joy. He actually felt them quite calming. No one wanted to go near a cemetary once the sun had set, so he could always count on some measure of privacy while in one. He had never bothered to read names before, so this might be something of a personal adventure. After all, there wasn't exactly much he could do for fun otherwise, was there?

"I had a run in with a gravekeeper once. He was old and senile and chased me with a shovel..." He looked off into space, reminiscing.

Jex looked Morose in the eye, "You have a deal, my friend."

Morose nodded and extended his hand across the table to close the deal. He liked Jex. The man didn't question too deeply. Not that Morose would have minded answering a question as to why he was looking for a grave marked 'Andrew.' But now he knew that the man would mind his own bussiness. And hell, maybe with Jex reading off the headstones for him, Morose would have more time to find a job. He could pay Jex more then, and get an appartment.

"It's a deal." He repeated. "So. Where exactly was it you thought you were going before I interupted your dieing?" Not that Jex was really dieing yet...

They grasped each others hands and shook on it, officially deciding that Jex was now Riddle's graveyard slave.

Good, now I rest in peace tonight. He stopped then, hearing what his mind had thought a funny joke. He shook his head lightly with a small smirk and took another drink from his cup.

"So. Where exactly was it you thought you were going before I interupted your dieing?"

Jex choked on his coffee when he heard that. Between the coughing and the hacking, he managed to give Morose and incredulous look.

"I wasn't dieing!" He said(still coughing), "But it seems that I am now, thanks to you!" He offered a laugh to let it be known that he wasn't serious about his complaint.

Good! He finally wasn't choking on hot coffee, now he could answer!

"Actually, I don't really know. I sometimes spend my nights wandering for a 'Help Wanted' sign or a cardboard box that I can claim. That and I just like walking. I only happened to be here tonight. I suppose it's a good thing I was, isn't it?"

Morose laughed out loud, a clear ringing sound, when Jex objected to his ‘dieing’ comment. He hadn’t been serious but it was still rather funny. “You may not have been dieing then but now that I’m killing you, at least you can die knowing you have a job.” He smiled. “I suppose it was lucky that you were there tonight. But, I’ll tell you now that I am a man who believes in fate. I think that if you were really meant to work for me, you and I would have crossed paths somewhere eventually.”

He leaned back once more as a bowl of steaming soup was set before him, Jex’s sandwich before him. “Where do you plan on sleeping tonight? If you havn’t got anything in mind, I was going to the cemetery and then I was going to crash in the park. They don’t usually shoe people off if they sleep under trees instead of on the benches.”

Food! Aha! Yes, finally! While Jex was falling in love with his dinner, Morose asked him a question.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. The park seems like a good idea, I had never thought of the trees before. Normally I just catch a few winks wherever I think I'm least likely to be found.

"I also don't know about fate. I've never been taught anything, so I don't know what to believe in. But at any rate, I'm glad to have met you."

His eyes strayed back to the rose. Now that he knew they would be at a cemetary, the flower just fell into place. Sure, it was odd not to know where someone you knew once was buried, but not unheard of. Morose seemed to be a pretty nice guy, one that Jex would be happy to help even if money was not an option.

"So what's on our agenda for tonight? Will we be heading to the cemetary or to the park?"

"Yo can start searching for the name whenever you want. That's when the pay starts. Tonight, I go to the cemetery." He leaned over his hot soup, looking into the red cream. "Do you realize the number of cemeteries there are in this city and the next?"

Who ever said that he'd known the man he was now looking for? But the wax sealed red rose did seem to fall in place with mention of a cemetery.

"I might as well stay with you then, right? There's no use in getting myself lost already."

Weren't there a lot of cemetaries in Bayfield? He guessed that there were quite a few, if you counted the suburbs and everything. The number Jex imagined was actually quite frightening. So, hesitantly, he decided to ask.

"Umm...do you know how many cemetaries there are here?"

Morose smiled. "No, we wouldn't do very well If I lost you the first night I gained you would we?" He dipped his spoon into the bowl of soup and stirred it around.

As for his own retorical question being turned around on him, he put his hand in the trench coat pocket and pulled out a folded peice of paper and unfolded it, laying it on the table. It was a map, random spots circled in bright red, sevral of which had large black "X's" over them.

"That many. And that's only the large ones that are noted on the map."

Jex let out a low whistle.

"We've got our work cut out for us then, don't we?"

The map was studied for a few minutes, then something occured to him.

"Now, you say that it's only the large one's that you've circled and checked out?"

He looked to Morose for a nod and continued.

"Well, this guy might not be in the big ones. It really all depends on where he died. Do you have any idea? There are lots of families with private plots on their own property, the same's true with lots of other shelters and things. If we know where he died, we might get a better clue as to where he might have been sent."

"Your a bright kid," even though Morose was sure the man was older then himself. "But all great plans have their flaws. This one is that I havn't got a clue where he died, or even in which city he died in....or if he really is dead, but I'm almost sure he is. He would have come back if he were alive."

Morose took a sip of the soup and decided it was cool enough, though it really wasn't, and took another sip. "See, Andrew and I were best friends, and in the same orphanage. He got sick, severly sick, and they took him away." He paused. "He didn't come back."

Ah, an orphanage. They tend to be tightwads that never got enough money. It was almost a guarantee that Andrew wasn't sent to a hospital of any kind, not even a doctor's office.

"Well, orphanges are cheap, so that probably narrows it down a bit. If we can find out how much they charge for plots, that should narrow it down some more."

That might work, but is it something an orphanage would do?

"Have you considered the possibility that he's been cremated?"

"He didn't want that. And the orphanage of Columbia can't allow it." Morose waved his spoon in an off-hand manner. "Something about having proof of the child's body because without it they can't collect insurance."

Morose sighed. It was always much easier thinking about this then talking about it. The red head looked down into his soup. What had to be done had to be done.

It was a little awkward, talking about his dead friend like that, but if they didn't take things into consideration they weren't going to get very far.

"Orphanage of Columbia? We should start there, then. We could say that we're looking for records of a long lost relative and see if they've still got a file on him. They probably won't let us know much else, such as where they send all of their bad cases...but it's a start."

They were both silent for a time, finishing their meals along with the occasional refill of their coffee mug.

"They know who I am. I couldn't go there."He replied. He looked to his soup and began to eat silently. He felt his collective barrier of calm-ness around him slipping away slowly. He liked the way things were going. Looking for his friend, his brother, without all of those complications. Moving around on hunches. But he said nothing more.

Stupid Jex, he thought, Telling him what to do isn't your job! He's been doing fine on his own so far, don't push your way of doing things on him.

But Jex, as he often did, didn't listen to his thoughts. Instead, he tried to figure Riddle out. He had to be extreamely loyal, to be looking for his friend for so persistantly, going from graveyard to graveyard and after so many failures still determined to go on. He was nice if you got to talk to him, but he seemed the type to talk on his own terms. But most importantly, he was SANE!!

Jex had run into some pretty strange characters in his twenty-three years(his sister included) and after so long with the derranged, he relished in the conversation(or lack thereof) he now recieved.

"It would take a while do get something like that together, though. With our resources it could take months."

Morose looked up from his eating and nodded. "I know." His voice held an undertone that told the other that he really did know. He smiled a little.

"I've been doing this for a year now. Three cities. I've already racked over three cities." The orphanage hadn't been allowed to release him until he was eighteen, since he didn't get adopted.

Three cities?! Talk about dedication...

"Well buck up, man! We'll find it, it only takes time. And seeing that neither of us have anything pressing to do at the moment, I'd say we have as much of it as we need."

Jex regained his cheery attitude and tried to motivate them both. He lightly slugged Morose on the arm from accross the table.

"So what do you say to some grave checkin' tonight, eh?"

He smiled because things would get better. He wouldn't have to talk to himself anymore and Morose would find what he'd been looking for. Jex was a firm optimist and he always tried to make others appreciate it...whether they wanted to or not.

He smiled as well. Jex may not have to talk to himself but every so often he may feel as if he is. Morose had never been a talker. He'd gone into the orphanage as a silent loner, only when he met Andy did he start talking. Then that was taken and he left the orphanage a silent man.

It wasn't that he was bad company. It was because he just didn't like to 'waist words'.

"Of course. Most Cemeterires are lined up in neat rows so it's easy to be thurough."

"Yeah, they make it pretty convenient, don't they?"

"Hey, about how often does it normally take you to get completely throught one cemetary? You did say that you've done most of the big ones."

Jex liked to work things out. He liked having an approximation of time and effort. He's flown by the seat of his pants from time to time, but it's been his experience that things just work better when they're planned.

"No. I've only done three in this city." He corrected. Not that it was a big deal on a normal occasion, but he was sure that Jex was trying to make a plan to go by. "And normally, in a well orgignized large one, it takes four hours give or take."

Morose didn't simply stop, read the name on the headstone, and then walk on. He stopped, read the name, and studied the stone before moving on. And then, he would say a simply and silent ‘god bless your soul,’ to each one. Sure death was natural, but who knew how good or bad it was on the other side.

Jex was in awe.

"Only four hours? With graveyards as large as they are here, you only spend four hours in each one?"

Not that Jex had actually taken a stroll through a complete cemetary, normally he stayed pretty near the entrance.

"Wow, I can't wait to see what we'll get done with the both of us working together."

He was content to sit here with a full belly and a companion that would talk to him(somewhat) for a while. But what had to be done had to be done.

"So...how do I go about looking for his name? What should I do when we get there, will you breif me?"

Morose shrugged. Breif him on what? Andrew had been an orphine. Not your typical go in and out of foster homes orphine. He had lived like Morose. In an orphanage without foster parents or parents. The only way they'd learned about the reasons they'd been put in the orphanage was by breaking into the 'warden's filing cabnit at lunch time.

He shrugged. "I supose all I can say is look for the name Andrew Fletcher or the Orphine number 486. That was his assigned number in the computer. I don't know how old he was or when he was born. Neither of us knew. We didn't have birthdays or parties."

He pushed his empty bowl away and pulled out his wallet but didn't take anything out yet. "Based on my appearance and my maturity level then, and the fact that I knew from the teachers and keepers that I was younger then Andy by a year, we assume that now I am eighteen or ninteen and he would probably be ninteen or twenty. So look for any dates between 1985 to 1982."

"Okay, I'll do that."

...what else was there to say? He knew what he was supposed to do, he knew what to look for...what else was there to say?

"So....do you have a girlfriend...or something?"

Morose almost choked. Wow. What a question to follow that conversation. Then he smiled. Probably the first real smile he'd had since...well...since he could remember. He took a sip of coffee and the waitress came.

"Can we have coffee to go? And one more of those." He pointed Jex's plate. He wanted half a sandwich. "Thanks."

Then he returned his attintion to Jex. "No. I havn't time for a girlfriend. In fact I never have...nor a boyfriend." He thought it might be improtant to throw that in. Becomeing gay or bisexual seemed to be a trend these days. "They're too expensive and I havn't got the money. And if I fall in love, then I'm rooted to this city or that and can't move on. I can only allow myself to love Andrew. Otherwise I might never find him." He took another drink. "You?"

Jex laughed as well, happy to be relaxing.

"Not really. Who would go out with a guy looking like me, right?"

"How about a dog, have you got a dog?"

Not a very lively conversation, but it was a way to get to know Morose. He seemed like a really intersting guy, it wouldn't hurt to get to know him.

He smiled. This was rather interesting. The waistress came back with a sandwich, a little to go box, the coffees, and the check. Morose looked at it, pulled money out, then handed it to her. When she left he toss three one dollar bills onto the table. But he didn't get up. Not yet.

"No. No dog. Their too expensive as well. I'm sure you don't have a dog eaither." Morose laughed almost. "Have you got many friends at all?"

Jex considered this for a moment...

"Well, there is this rat that follows me around...and I'm not quite sure if I mean that literally or figuratively...hmmm...interesting..."

He stared off into space for a few moments, trying to think of any one he could count as a friend.

"Oh!" He exclaimed, after a couple long minutes, "There is this one person who wears a blue uniform and has a badge and some kind of club that's really nice. Whenever he sees me he askes if I've got a place yet...but I don't know if you can count that as a friend."

He feigned confusion for a second before he started to chuckle.

Morose smiled, shaking his head at his new companion’s attempt at a joke. He picked up the sandwich and stuffed it into the little box and slid the box into his over large coat pocket. Then he picked up his coffee and took a sip.

“No. I’m not sure he really counts.” Morose cocked his head to the side and looked Jex over again. There was a lot you could tell about a man by studying their actions and movements.

Jex lightly tapped his fingers to the music overhead before snapping them in mock disappointment.

"Oh drat, and for a moment I thought I had one."

He settled to get a drink of his coffee. He let loose another laugh and retorted to Morose's taunting.

"Let's see you top that one, then."

He, too, watched the man accross from him. Imagine, he was actually interested in what he would say next.

Morose wasn't quite sure what he was suposed to top. Maybe how many friends he had?

"I have no friends." Like girls and pets, they were too time consuming. The red head still watched the other, then finally, took another drink of the hot coffee. Or maybe he was suposed to come up with another question...a better question.

"Are you innitiate?"

He wasn't going to spend the next, hell knows how long, with this man and beat around the bush the entire time. He wasn't about to waist all that time trying to figure out if this companion knew of the magical world. If he did, fine. If he didn't...he did now. Well, Morose hadn't technically said anything about magic but if Jex didn't know what innitiate was, he was going to question him about it, and Morose wasn't going to waist breath lieing.

Innitiate? To what? A club? Was there some special homeless person's association?

"Umm..." Jex was extremely uncertain, and his face and figeting betrayed it, "...no?"

"I see." He sighed. Well. So much for that. That just cut about half of his conversations out, and that wasn't very many conversation ideas to begin with. As said before, Morose is a quiet man. He possessed no magic eaither. Andrew had, he'd been the one to introduce Morose to the Innitiate world. "Nevermind then."

There was a sigh in that reply. Very subtle, but it was there. Jex didn't like sighs. Sighs meant that something was wrong, that someone didn't know something that they should know. Sighs meant that someone was bored, upset, or exasperated!

No, sighs were not good things.

"This isn't something I should know about, is it?" He asked, anxious, "Cause if it's important..."

He didn't want to be left in the dark, but if he didn't need to know, he didn't care. But Jex had issues with dependency. He didn't want to be the one to not know something when the time came.