Somewhere on Serendipity Street, Saturday Morning

It had been a fool's errand, an act of desperation, of something sodding stupid done to stave off his own helplessness. The phone call, that was. Of course, none of the scum and the idiots down in Bristol had known anything, so the point was moot and Mitchell was getting more frantic in his efforts.

Maybe the island hadn't been such a good pick, but now he was stuck with it; he wasn't going to let the kids go without a fight.

So after a few hours of necessary rest he was heading back to the school to dive back into the books, cap safely on his head to protect his eyes from the sun, and his gloved hands shoved down his pockets.

He supposed he should've seen it coming, the presence, the taunting, if only by the smellL.

He didn't.

"Mitchell."

The voice, however, was so recognisable it made something in him jump, and his head swivelled around to discover the figure, still clad in a policeman's uniform - although a local one, at least Herrick knew how to blend in - and looking as plain and portly as always, hovering in an alley with his fingers curled around a hot steaming cup.

"Run out of dimes for the phone, Herrick?" he asked, stepping into the alleyway as quickly as he could, "You shouldn't be here."

( Jack had been researching... )

[[ NFI, NFB, OOC-okaaay ]]