Wandering

[Steven Fitzgerald]

Collecting his scattered possessions from the pavement floor where they had fallen. Steven glowered at the couple of passers by who didn't stop and offer him any help. Though on reflection he was glad in a way. He hated being stuck in that awkward English way where someone offers you help and you have to assure them that you are alright and can manage, even if in fact you could do with the help.

For a moment Steven found himself worried as he listened to Miranda. She wasn't normally flustered and the tone of her voice said to his reporters instinct that she was concerned about something.

Did Miranda care what happened to him?

Steven was aware that Mr Hart disliked publishing stories on The Night Watch unless it was breaking news such as when they had assaulted a local Law Firm. Although if he remembered correctly, when he had searched the archives even that story had been placed on page two in favor of a less provocative headline.

Maybe writing about The Night Watch might not be the fastest way to the front page. Steven thought taking Miranda's warning to heart. Or is she just trying to prevent me from delivering the big hard hitting page one scoop?

Steven thought back to what he had learned over the last two months and what he had heard through the grapevine while everyone congregated around the office water-cooler. The man whose job Steven had replaced had had a far to deep an interest in stories concerning The Watch. Even going so far as to publicly call them, Edgehaven's vigilante 'so called' protectors. After that Mr Hart had had to sack him. His stories were considered far too challenging and almost goading as they denounced the Watch and made them look bad.

As far as Steven was aware very few of his predecessors news stories actually saw the printing press and those that did were heavily edited and as far from the front page as Mr Hart could get them. Coming to the decision that Steven didn't want his carer to end up like that. He very carefully finished collecting the last of the things from the pavement floor, placed them all safely back in his leather satchel, stood, and decided he had come to a conclusion.

"On second thoughts I might not have enough to go on. This story would require a lot more investigation. It might even be better for tomorrows deadline, or perhaps the next." He said hoping that by then something would have happened that would make Miranda forget he had said anything about the DA or The Watch.

Suddenly his cheerfulness fled as the cold realization hit him that once again he didn't have a story. "Umm... say Miranda what time does Bil... I mean Mr Hart want us back at the office?" He asked feeling all too light headed.

He knew he wasn't overly far away for the Gazette offices but in whatever time Miranda gave him he had to come up with: a story, subsequent pictures for evidence and probably even some witness statements on said story that he didn't have.

Feeling the panic attack returning Steven found himself praying that this colleague would tell him he had plenty of time left. Though even if she did, he wasn't confident that he could produce anything any good in the time left.

Feeling Sick as he waited for her reply Steven began to think that perhaps working for The EHG (Edgehaven Gazette) wasn't exactly good for his health.

[Miranda Burke]

Miranda inspected her fingernails briefly and smirked. Her tactic had worked. She wasn't entirely sure if Steven really did have a story about the Night Watch, or if it was on the same scale as hers, but she'd rather not have to compete with him for the exclusive.

"Aye, y'don't want tae submit somethin' half-finished." She considered for a few seconds. The longer Steven was away, the more chance she had of getting her story in objection-free.

"Ah don't think he really minds, as long as its in time for deadline. Y'should be good for an hour or two." She figured that would be long enough to get her own story typed, polished and on the editors desk without too much hassle.

"Anyway, I gottae go, ah've a wee but maer work tae do on my own story. I'll, eh, see yeh back at the office."

[Steven Fitzgerald]

With a sigh of relief as Miranda gave him his two hour window Steven felt his panic, if not subsiding at least not rising, and that was something.

"Thanks for the heads up there Miranda. I appreciate it." He said awkwardly. That probably being one of the few genuinely grateful statements Steven had given his Scottish counterpart since they had first been introduced two months ago.

"I'd better get going. See you around." He said hanging up the phone and placing it back in his trouser pocket, though not before adjusting the ring tone volume to a more pleasant decidable.

Story. His subconscious mind said to him. Must find a story!

As if guided by a will of there own Stevens hands automatically found there way to one of his cameras and stared taking photos.

As he did this he began to receive several unpleasant glances from some of the streets occupants as the flash brought a moments illumination to the darkness.

Quickly Steven scurried off trying desperately to find something on which to make his report. For just over half an hour after he had gotten off the phone to Miranda he had scouted around a majority of the towns eastern quadrant and although he had managed to snap some half decent photos of a drunken fist fight before the victor of said fright had taken offense to his crime being captured on film and had decided to leave the bloodied victim alone and instead shift his anger toward Steven.

After that Steven had had to run until he was sure the angry brawler was no longer chasing. Whereupon he managed to get a few good shots of an owl perched in a tree. Though unless he was planning to run a story on the unusual wildlife the darkness attracted which was about as interesting as it sounded, and it sounded boring. Those pictures wouldn't do him much good.

Some twenty minutes later and with of wail of despair which made more than one passerby stop for a moment and then cross the street to avoid him, which in Edgehaven was a bad thing. Steven began to think that maybe this wasn't the job he was meant for. Ever since his arrival in Edgehaven he had struggled. If he were honest he even found his page two stories difficult to get. Thinking of how hard life was Steven found himself about to cry out again but forced himself not too.

What was the point after-all?

He had always wanted to become a journalist like his mother. All his life he had grown up listening to stories his mother and father told him of great news articles they had reported on together. Now Steven had a chance to be just like them. But it was just so hard!

He didn't know if he could bare to see the look of disappointment on his Dad's face as he would have to tell him he'd lost his job after only being in it for two months. He knew that his father had had his doubts about Steven making a name for himself in Edgehaven. Now he'd just be proving him right.

Far too depressed as he imagined Mr Harts anger at him coupled with the disappointment of his parents. Stevens hands drop from the camera around his neck and fell to his side. Almost in a trance Stevens feet began to lead him towards a local bar he knew of having been invited there several times by fellow workers of the Gazette.

((continued in The Broken Bottle Pub))

[Miranda Burke]

"Ach, nae worries." Miranda said, almost sincerely. As Steven hung up, she slipped her phone back into her back and pushed open the door to Gazette building, smiling proudly.

((Continued in the The Edgehaven Gazette thread))