Silas Carstairs, DIMC Liason for CAWW Affairs.

A couple of a cats, these two.

Silas always had the impression that Angie's sleepy boy was all wrapped up in himself and apart from others. But he seemed genuinely cosy with the witch, which made him rather curious about Daylight's lost little girl.

"If you're ever looking for old Silas," he put his card down on the coffee table, "Just a call away. Never at the flat, you know, don't bother trying there."

       "Wouldn't dream of it." Virgil's eyes narrowed over a sharp smile and took a toke off the joint before passing it to Natalie.

Was he ever that young and self-approving? Ah, well, at least he wasn't the young part anymore. He deeply liked and disliked how much V reminded him of himself.

"You too, Miss Morrow," Silas added lightly as he made to move, nodding at the card on the table. "I'm a useful fellow to have in a tight spot."

His hands went into his pockets and he could feel the buzz of his phone going off. "One of you lovelies want to walk me out?"

God, he was so manipulative. Natalie didn't even notice that Uncle Silas has used her last name Morrow despite it not having been provided in her hearing. She had to hand it to him: his strange little invasion into her and Virgil's platonic urban domesticity (and very good weed) had dispersed the mundane moping of her bad evening. Feeling secure that he was leaving, Virgil's catty feedback loop giving her confidence, Natalie volunteered.

She lifted up off the couch, and went to the door light in her heavy boots, wand-waving it open. Natalie put a hand up against the jamb and waited. With the door open, their clever welcome mat (which always says Good-bye) could do some heavy lifting. She could smell his cologne.

"Aw, thanks. We'll let you know if we want to, like, get Witch Which."[1]

1.	You know it's a magical broomstick food delivery service in NYC.

He didn't genuinly consider Silas a danger - at least not to them - but as his cousin moved to leave, Virgil wondered how their paths had crossed at The Pit. Whether Five was chasing up their own clues and coming to their own conclusions.

       "Of course," the other wizard lingered at their door, giving Nemo something that wasn't quite a smile. "Generous to a fault. That's me."

There was something about the way he looked at her that didn't sit right with V. He wished Silas weren't an Occlumens, just so he could confirm it wasn't dirty-old-man bullshit.

But then he glanced back at Virgil with a little wave. "I think I'll be seeing you, cousin," the farewell came across as a friendly threat. "Small world that this is--" and a last wink at Nemo. "--smaller than you think."

He was gone then, hands still in pockets with his back turned to them. As soon as the door was shut, V made a deflated sound and tipped himself backward to sprawl on the sofa.

"God he's exhausting," he muttered. "I don't remember him being that exhausting."