The guestroom was home to a large cat tree in one corner and a fairly new chair that acted as a scratching post in another. Jack sat in the middle of the bed, tacking away at his laptop. He sighed as a pair of cats tore into the room, across his legs, and held their standoff on the cat tree.

He picked up a jingly ball from the toy pile beside him and tossed it out the door. The cats chased after it, leaving behind the sounds of plastic and claws clambering over wooden floors. As rambunctious as the pair of fiends got at night, it was a welcome distraction from his thoughts.

He couldn't stop thinking about the tarot reading and advice. Secrets, decisions, and changes. Proceed with caution. He wasn't ready for that. Even if tarot was a load of bullshit served up with pretty pictures, Candace had a way of spinning things to make it seem reasonable.

He should end things with Kieran while he was ahead. Let the whole ordeal be a wistful memory he could look back on with fondness. Maybe he could squeeze in one proper date first. Kieran would catch on to the anxious paranoia, decide Jack wasn't worth it, and call it quits himself. Save Jack the trouble.

Or he could just not do anything. Kieran seemed to have decided Jack was in charge of where the potential relationship was going, and Jack was a shitty navigator. He already made the first phone call, wasn't that enough? Maybe he would luck out, and Kieran would call him up.

"Yeah, right," Jack muttered, hitting the keys a little harder than necessary. He lifted his hands from the keyboard as a micro stampede rounded the corner and ended up under the bed. He lowered his hands when it sounded like the box spring was the place to be.

A knock on the doorjamb drew his attention, and he smiled at Sam. "They're fine."

Sam shook his head and held up a small stack of envelopes. "This week's mail," he said, tossing them at Jack's knee.

Jack reached over and shuffled through the pile. Bills and junk. And a flier to Rick's Electronics. With a coupon. He held up the flier and scrutinized it. In his hand was the perfect excuse to drop in on Kieran. "Do I need any computer parts?"

"Do you?" Sam asked through a yawn, scratching at his stubble.

"I could always use more memory."

"Couldn't we all."

Jack tapped the cardstock against the side of his laptop. "Would it be too soon to just kinda…drop in? If I'm in the area anyway."

"Too soon is setting up shop in front of the police station the day after you called in a burglary," Sam dryly replied. "I think you're fine. You're in the area and figured you'd make up for getting rained out."

"More like making up for locking myself out like an idiot and being an inconvenience."

"You're not an inconvenience, Jack."

"What do you know? Your perception's skewed," Jack spat out. "Anything that isn't a midnight murder is fine with you."

Sam eyed Jack for a moment. "If you manage to get yourself out of this mood by tomorrow afternoon, I'd suggest using your excuse and dropping in. I'll leave a twenty on the kitchen table. Offer him a coffee."

Jack slouched and glared at his lap. "I don't need your money to fund my lack of a dating life."

"Think of it as payment for distracting Candy," Sam replied with a small grin. "She's completely engrossed with untangling your future. I might get a full night's sleep."

"Is she at least making me breakfast?" Jack asked, reluctantly looking at Sam. He didn't think he could handle another reading without some form of non-monetary incentive. Maybe he could sneak out the window.

"Waffles, I think. Her mom sent her a waffle iron that makes stars."

"Occult waffles? Really?"

"It makes her happy. Besides, I think it's a leftover Christmas thing."

---

Jack stared at his promised star-shaped waffles. They would have looked cute had it not been for the sigils drawn in syrup. He was irritated over the fact that he recognized that a couple of them were related to protection. He didn't need protecting. He wasn't a child. He was pushing thirty.

He nodded sulkily when offered a can of whipped cream.

On the plus side, he had yet to see Candace's deck of tarot cards or any suspicious pouches of stones. He reached for his fork and sighed when he noticed that the twenty Sam left him had managed to travel even closer to his plate. He grabbed the money and shoved it in his pocket, sending a pointed glare to Candace. He immediately withered under her smug grin.